Well It Wasn't Broken

I don't think that Glenwood has evolved much in her approach to my belongings; rather, I think that wearing earplugs at night has reduced my anxiety about what she'll do to them and so I sleep - then wake up to whatever she has relocated.  The exception is around 4 am, still, when she goes all out for ...?  Impossible to know, but her demands penetrate the earplugs and I'm awake.  Often she's jumping up on the dresser, which really really really drives me nuts.

The night before my last post, during our 4 am interval, I leapt out of bed to chase her off the dresser and tripped over my handweights.  Because they are, uh, weights, they didn't budge when I hit.  I landed on the floor, not in a crash but as a way of absorbing the shock.  Oh yeah, it hurt.  But I could move everything so I went back to bed, figuring I'd deal in the morning.

The pain was excruciating. If you doubt me, get this:  I called the doctor.  Last time I broke a toe (the Architectural Digest incident) I didn't go to the doctor for weeks.  Now that I'm back in running shape (more or less), the thought of being benched was enough for me to want to know the damage.  And, of course, I iced, with Queen Glenwood finding the whole thing fascinating.  She actually walked off with the icebag in her mouth once, but I was too immobilized to get a camera.  Beneath this ice bag is one giant, purple, painful big toe.

Glenwood Is Amused by the Damage

My doctor was somewhat amused (appropriately), being a runner himself and recalling my slow appearance after the AD incident.  The x-ray showed no fracture, so now I'm just letting it heal enough to get a running shoe on it.

And Life Goes On