It was heavy, black, and pendulous.
Okay, not pendulous, but I did too many Rocky Horror shows not to say the rest. Anyway, I tripped over it, and in my attempts not to fall on the concrete pavement, I shifted my weight in such a way my ankle went "pop!" Ow... ow ow ow ow ow OW! Mother [sendmail.cf]'ing OW! It swelled up a little, but I could still move it in some directions, just not all of them. Now it only hurts if I smack it or put weight on it. The swelling has gone down to almost nothing, and it supports a little weight, but work keeps paging me.
Work keeps paging me because we put in a desperate, last-minute fix on some ghastly project that we work with... M-M... M... I can't say it. But it's a mega-big-huge-conglomo company whose name means "Small and squishy." See, when this company calls you... you respond. Fast. Even though I had been working since 4am, I worked until 7pm because of this.
That's why I was so tired, and that's why I don't feel guilty about being in bed with the ankle.
I would like... [You would, would you?] ... if I may... [You may NOT!] to take you... [where?] on a strange journey... [How strange was it? So strange they made a movie about it. No, not a book, a MOVIE!]
Great... now I'll have RHPS running through my head.