I leaned over and hit my head, my chin really on the dresser. I jumped. Hit my face dangerously close to my eye on the other dresser.
I now have two cuts and a black eye. From my dresser...
Everywhere I go, people look at me like "poor thing, she got into a fight".
Nope, that's my dresser. But I've been telling strangers that the cat did it. It's just a lot less embaressing to be like "yeah, my cat flipped." than "My dressers ganged up on me.". Plus it sounds a lot less like a cover story for actually having gotten into a fight.
Ellie's comment (to be taken as entirely funny and not at all mean):
This is what happens when you keep such ugly clothes in them.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Another little snippet from the car ride yesterday...
We were listening to Rusted Root, When I Woke. We were on our way to drive thru and get lunch.
"Man, this music makes me hungry. It's all like Lord of the Flies and shit. Where's the pig?" -- Ellie.
