My Right Foot

So yesterday I took my dog to the park for a little ball chasing. For some reason I decided to put on my pink ballet flats that morning, maybe because they take the least effort to slip on. So I'm kicking the ball, and my dog goes after it, and we're doing this for a while. Now the one thing to know about my dog park is that it is a piece of crap. That is to say the ground is all concrete and there are places where the concrete is broken and raised. And I guess I wasn't paying attention because I didn't notice that there was a patch of said concrete right where I was to kick the ball. So I pull my foot back, the foot that is protected by nothing but pink canvas, and with all of my might, kick. Right into the wall of a dip of concrete.

Uh, ouch. Long story short, I hobble home and all day I'm thinking I just stubbed my toe. A few hours, massive swelling and unbearable pain later, it's pretty clear that it's probably fractured or broken. The thing is, you can't really do anything for a broken toe than just let it be. Ah, darn. Nothing that a bit of advil, ice cream and TV can't fix.