ow ow OW

[eye_of_a_cat]

The first day after the clocks change, when it's light enough to go running in the evenings after work, and I... fall over the dog and twist my ankle. It's swollen up impressively, and now I'm limping about like one of the Ringwraiths in the Bakshi-animated Lord of the Rings. (If you haven't seen the Bakshi-animated Lord of the Rings, then neither do you want to.)

I can't afford to phone in injured to work, so I'm hoping my boss will take pity on the lame and let me spend most of my shift sitting on the floor sorting out the Anthropology journals. Teaching will be easier, since I can sit down through the whole class, and simultaneously more frustrating, since I usually don't sit down through the whole class. Tomorrow's tutorials will be conducted without any kneeling on tables or pacing about between the class and the whiteboard. Bah.

But, mostly: the dog. How did I not see the dog? And more importantly, how many of my colleagues and students will believe me if I make up a story in which I twisted my ankle doing something world-changing and heroic?

Comments

[eye-of-a-cat.livejournal.com]

She's scared of the ironing board, so maybe I could be saving her from that? Except it doesn't sound too terrifying to outsiders. Hm.

My family cat's (see icon) ambition in life is to trip someone up on the stairs. He actually waits until you've set off down them and then races up them towards you.

[sam-t.livejournal.com]

Scared of the ironing board? Awww. One of mine is terrified of the hoover (she's started noticing the difference between 'hoover plugged in' and 'hoover not plugged in', recently, which I reckon is probably advanced intelligence for her) but they both treat the ironing board as somewhere to sit and/or chase clothes, although they usually get the hint once they've been shooed off once.