Okay...OW.

I'm writing this on a Monday evening. An evening when, all things going to plan, I would be dancing. I am not dancing. Obviously. I am sitting on my sofa and typing. And why am I sitting on my sofa and typing?

Because I left my stepladder in a stupid place.

You're all smart humans. You can put two and two together and make five. Yes, I did a dumb thing. In an effort to remind myself to swap out the old smoke detector base for the one that fits the new smoke detector, I left the stepladder underneath the spot on the ceiling where the smoke detector lives. Now, in the daytime, this wouldn't be a dumb thing. When the lights are off, however...

Yeah. At dark o'clock last Friday night, the rattos were causing a ruckus, so I went out to investigate. Normally I don't, but this was the usual ruckus, it was the "something hurts" ruckus, so it warranted further investigation. Of course, when I got to the cage and switched on the light, there were three little faces staring at me, saying, "...what? We're not doing anything!" Eyes were rolled. Lights were switched off. The trek back to bed was begun.

And then I tripped on the stepladder, got tangled in the frame, and went arse over tea kettle onto the kitchen floor.

I'm really very lucky I didn't clonk my noggin on the way down, all things considered. Once I stopped tumbling there was a moment of stunned silence, followed by a string of, "Ow. Fuck. Ow. Okay, ow. Fucking ow. Fuck. Ow. Can I move my...? Yup. Okay. Ow," and other variations of same. I managed to disentangle myself from the offending piece of furniture and stand up, at which point I hobbled to the bathroom to inspect the damage. 

It wasn't pretty. One giant bruise with a patch of skin scraped off on my left foot, same on my right ankle and right knee, and a nice big batch of bruising at the back of my right thigh. All of it straight out the gate. Cue more hobbling, and putting myself on ice.

Anyway, fast forward a few days. The bruises are just lovely. All multicolored and still very much unpleasant. And considering their placement, probably not a good thing to be dancing on, because they'd be bang in the line of really uncomfortable places in shoes. The one on my left foot isn't exactly in a great place for non-dancing shoes either, all things considered. 

So, here I sit. Bruised.

Don't leave your stepladders in the middle of the hall and have a wander 'round in the dark, kids. It makes you turn funny colors.