Owww!

So right before my alarm goes off this morning, I'm having a nightmare. Apparently, my bosses at work and I are putting on a Shakespeare play for some of our clients, family, and friends. Turns, out, I have a role in the play, whch I had forgotten about. I'm thinking I just have to get this script copied and run it to my boss so he can say his lines, which he didn't have time to memorize.

Of course, all the copiers are shut off and are taking too long to power back up... And I hear the play going, and I notice there's dead silence. Someone is supposed to be speaking, but isn't. Then it dawns on me, *I* am the one that's supposed to be speaking! They're all waiting for me! I'm not in costume, there's no way I can go out there like this, so I decide to just get the heck out of there and start looking for a new job!

Then my alarm goes off. [Queue the conscious part of my brain!] So I hop up out of bed to shut it off (or so I think), thinking, "Phew, that was just a dream, but I'd rather still be dreaming about that horrible play than having to get up and go to work."

As I'm trying to hop out of bed, my foot gets caught in my sheets, and when I yank it out, it slams onto the edge of the wooden platform bed (in a downward chopping motion, if you need the visual), and I break a toe on my right foot. Yes, not just stubbed, broken. Ouch. Foot swollen, I limped all the way to work. Good times!

Hey, here's a fun experiment: try limping in public some time. Look at the looks on people's faces when they see you limpimg. It appears to be some strange combination of pity and contempt. We're such good animals!