(no subject)

Apparently, the part of my shin that I thought was a huge bruise is not only a huge bruise but also a pulled muscle. It must have happened during today's volleyball game, though I can't imagine when - I don't remember any point at which I was suddenly in pain. It was only afterward, when I tried to take my kneepads off and encountered a large tender bluish spot on my left shin, that I even noticed anything was wrong. So of course I did all the right things: I went home, I elevated it and iced it, I took anti-inflammatory drugs. And then my dad came in, took one look at it, and said, "You'll probably have to stay off that for at least a week."

To which I replied, "I can't stay off it; I'm the captain of the volleyball team."

He shrugged, pointed at my hugely swollen blue-purple-green leg and said, "You can't walk on that, much less play volleyball."

I levered myself off the sofa where I had been watching Gilmore Girls (digression: Dean's hair! I never knew Dean could be cute!) and put some weight on the leg and lo and behold I couldn't actually move very well on it. Except I walked around a little, because I wanted to be able to, and that was probably stupid because now it hurts like a bitch and I can't take any more Ibuprofen until this batch wears off in another few hours. I'm trying to distract myself by writing, but that's not working too well, because I have to write an essay and it's not coming out right.

Oh well. Nose, meet grindstone. I'm sure you'll be well acquainted soon enough.