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This Thursday I twisted my ankle again on the stairs at work. At least it's not sprained like last time I fell on the stairs at work (and I don't have a con to go to in costume in three days, the way I did when I twisted it on the step down from street level in to the St. Mark's comics store).
Just like last time, however (when for reasons that don't need exploring at this juncture I was running as fast as I could down the stairs in the converted brownstone the office is in), it's entirely my own fault. I was reading Sandman Slim on myfold-y book nook as I left work, and missed the last step.
The swelling's almost gone away now, though, and it doesn't really hurt anymore.
In only partially unrelated news, I recommend Sandman Slim to any of you guys who liked Harry Connolly's Twenty Palaces series or Caitlin Kittredge's Black London books.
Just like last time, however (when for reasons that don't need exploring at this juncture I was running as fast as I could down the stairs in the converted brownstone the office is in), it's entirely my own fault. I was reading Sandman Slim on my
The swelling's almost gone away now, though, and it doesn't really hurt anymore.
In only partially unrelated news, I recommend Sandman Slim to any of you guys who liked Harry Connolly's Twenty Palaces series or Caitlin Kittredge's Black London books.