A Brooding Pharaoh

I rolled my anlke like a mo-fo yesterday. Stanek made it all better, but it's still sprained, swollen, and tender to the touch. My lack of crutches, a wheelchair, or even a simple diamond-headed cane has made moving around a real bitch, to say the least. I've already had to cancel two social activities this evening. Damn my easily separable ligaments! Or whatever a sprain is...

Struck down in my prime, all thanks to my unwavering devotion to Warrior Tennis. No, Flying B! Go on without me!

But the Flying B would never desert an athlete in need. It's not the Warrior Way.

I missed the Lit study session, but I have the excellent double excuse that I have a sprained ankle AND the fact that my dog was giving birth at the time. Two girls, two boys. Janet, Dan, Eddie, and Flo. At least that's what the rents want to call them. Don't worry, I'll get some pics up soon.

Also, everybody visit Pizza and Mandolins, the bridge between Mustaches and Italians! I'll link it directly.