Everything was going smoothly until I came upon the sidewalk on Market Street. More specifically, everything was fine until I kicked that utility dropbox set in the concrete. Of course, this happens as I'm approaching an intersection where I'm looking ahead and seeing a line of cars that may or may not let me have the right of way when I get there. Then I trip, stumble, curse, and turn left for a second to catch my balance and make sure I still have all my digits before crossing behind traffic.
The first three toes suffered the brunt of the impact, but the big toes seems to have received the worst of it. I can still bend the toe, which I assume means it's not broken. But I've taped the joint to immobilize it. Tonight's six-miler could be interesting.
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They say imitation is the sincerest form of flattery, but I think this has taken it to the level of obsession.
What next--you gonna take up art? Leave Barefoot Josh alone now.
This wouldn't have happened if you had been wearing those watermelon rinds.
The last time I stubbed a toe was when looking up to say hi to a walker. It always happens when I'm not paying attention. Then I groan for the next week at my stupidity.
um...thanks for the earworm?
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