I think I might have broken my ankle. Ugh. It hurts and it’s almost impossible to find a way to sit so it doesn’t. I could barely hobble to the bureau to get the ibuprofen and I don’t think it is helping at all.

I’m kind of a physical wreck, actually, and finding it impossible to sleep between two or three things.

When I talked to R earlier about the time since I returned from Maine, she brought up how I text messaged her one night when I was out drinking just to say hi, and how that was a bit of surprise. Or something. I was sitting here whining internally about the pain and discomfort and I thought about texting her. That’d be, bad, I guess. That’s hard.

I’m reminded of conversations with J about whether I’d let someone take care of me or not and how people sometimes get the false impression that I wouldn’t. And I think about M writing about being hurt and the poor boys that had to look after her and feeling affectionate toward her. Meh. Tonight kinda sucks now.