I whacked the living daylights out of my knee this morning. I was running late and trying to multitask by doing my prison cell push ups in the bathroom while getting ready. Lesson learned: my bathroom is too small for prison pushups, and whacking your knee on the cabinet corner means you spend your writing time icing it down. And moaning in the fetal position while clutching the offending limb. Here’s the best picture I can get. I can’t capture the full swelling with my phone camera, but I don’t think I’ve ever had an egg on my leg before. Doesn’t look like much but trust me, it hurts. (And do you like how my skin tone matches the beige tile. Dang, I need some sun.)
Thank goodness for my character traits.