This weekend I went to Shreveport to do a fur sale. We did really well, but it came with a price... my pinkie toe. Friday night I was stumbling around in the hotel room, trying to find the bathroom, and wouldn't you know it, I banged the crap out of it in the dark and broke it all to hell.
I didn't know it was broken until Saturday morning, when I woke up and it was all swollen and felt like it was on fire. I couldn't put any weight on that foot at all. It was the worst physical pain I can remember feeling in a long time... maybe ever. It hurt right up to my hip. I just couldn't believe that much pain could come from such a teeny little toe. It just hurt and hurt and hurt all day long. I really started to worry because I have to walk to get everywhere, and what if I couldn't walk to work? I'd be f'd. At least we had a good sale, I told myself.
Today it doesn't hurt nearly as bad. That is, it doesn't just hurt nonstop like it did yesterday. I can hobble around, and Ed gave me his crutches and I took a couple of test spins around the block to see how able I was. I figure I can walk to work with the crutches. The bitch is going to be standing up all day at the cash register, and walking around doing stuff that has to be done.
It was worth the broke swolled up toe though, as it got both Ed and I out of our respective financial holes. Plus we just had a good time, and it was nice to see the people in Shreveport again.