I Know, I Know....And I Fixed the typos, too!!

Some sad toes....blacker since this was taken but I'll spare you the photo

I know a picture of one's own feet is in the top ten list of thins that people shouldn't do on Instagram.  That didn't stop me from posting a picture of my feet to Facebook the minute I figured out the Instagram app.  But this may be a developing foot story here.  Or a developing bruise.  Like so many personal anecdotes, it starts with "I was just trying to help."  A co-worker has been on vacation, and knowing that she has despaired of the table that her printer is on for years (Seriously, it was on a 1970's style end table which had probably been put in to service when a long distant predecesor first was set up with some sort of Commodore 64 and a printer.)  Everything went so smoothly.  I was feeling rather proud of my self (caution light right there) - having given her the extra gift of a longer printer cord.  Our mailroom has a cabinet shelf similar to some boxes I have at home; tiny electronic recreations of Snakes on a Plane.  Cord successfully installed, test print successful.  All I had to do was take away the old table and my mission was complete.   The table wasn't heavy - the only little problem was not taking into account the fact that the thich glass inset top was not actually glued, meded, or bracketed onto the table in any way.  So there came the brief exclamation (loud enough that a co-worker heard) and then the moment when time is suspened and pain haas become so sharp as to disappear altogether.  As this brief, shining moment of eternity eclipsing one tick of the clock my first thought was "Oh, dear Jesus,  I've cut off my toes."  I was afraid to look - the sharp pain returned and I quickly envisioned leaving work with my nicely painted toes in a baggy in hopes of reattachment.  (Oh, plus the embarrassment of explaing the blood on my friend's carpet..."I was just trying to help...)   The glass had that nice smooth, finished edge which was a blessing.  Otherwise I think we might have drawn a bit of blood.  So I'm trying to chill on a hot, hot day.  Toasting our independence with Gatorade and high potency anti-inflammatories.  People in favor of practical shoes, people against flip-flops at work, and the soul of my late father are invited to not leave I told you so comments in the com box.  It was 100 degrees and my toes want liberation, even if they have to put their very being on the line.








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