I am going to have a bruise on my cheek. I already have a hugeish throbbing goose egg (that sounds really sick), so I fully expect to see a bruise there when I wake up tomorrow morning. That is if I wake up, because lately my clumsyness is at an all time high and I'm pretty sure I am capable of some sort of night-time mishap.
Oh yeah, I'm babbling and I never even told you why I have a throbbing goose egg (gross) on my cheek.
I bent over to pick up one of Elle's 13 zillion toys and misjudged where my head would land and I smacked into the corner of the sewing machine (which is and antique, literally 100 years old, does not sew and doubles as a junk table). I hit it hard, hard enough to make the f-word fly out of my mouth without a second thought. And believe me friends, when you have a 2 and half year old tape recorder following you around - you think twice before bustin' out the big eff.
I wonder what the eff it'll look like in the morning... It kind of reminds me of when I was going through my radiation treatment and I would always wonder what new kind of wierdness my face was going to look like after a treatment. I'm still saddled with this carnage:
It's not quite as red anymore, but it's as smooth as a baby's arse and it repels water. You'd think that would gain me superhero qualifications, but alas - it doesn't. Too bad the throbbing goose egg (still sickin me out) wasn't on that side, then I could just turn to the right whenever someone spoke to me. Heh, but no, now turn to the left: cancer face - turn to the right: clumsy knocked on a sewing maching face...
I'm glad I don't go out for the weekend anymore.