I ruined my ankle again. This time worse than ever.
It was like 11AM and I was in bed because I had been up until 8AM. I hear the doorbell go off, and I look out my window and see FedEx is here. I have 3 packages incoming. I hope out of bed, throw on whatever clothes are nearby, and rush to the door, but I'm too late, the FedEx guy has already left. I rush down the hall and start bolting down the steps to catch up with him on the first floor. I completely putz it up, twist my ankle, and fall on my fuckin head. The FedEx guy turns around (he was just walking out the front door of my building) and I yelled something along the lines of "FUCKING TITS." I see I got his attention and I asked, "Do you have any packages for 205?" And he did. I painfully limped back to my apartment, put on my now-familiar ankle brace, and ate like 4 vicodins.