If You Can't Say Anything Nice...

Ouch

So last night after going to bed, Jo realized that the desktop computer had been left on. I offered to go shut it off, and so headed down to the office, which is in the basement beside Aidan's bedroom. It's dark down there, darker than our last house, so we have a nightlight in the hallway. I was successful navigating my way there and shutting off the computer, but then, instead of turning on the hall light to help me back out, I figured it was all good, forgetting of course that I had just had the office light on and that therefore the nightlight wasn't going to do me a lick of good.

I walked straight into the door, edge-on.

From there I staggered to the stairs, hands over my face, yelling for Jo as I collapsed. The moisture in my hands that I initially thought was tears turned out to be, when I removed my hands in the washroom, blood. Lots of it, pouring from my forehead and really pouring from the bridge of my nose.

I'll post a picture if I can find the cord, which has gone missing in the move. In the meantime, I have a bandage on the nose now, and I expect I'm going to have a permanent scar. I'll tell people I cut myself shaving.