My head...

Last Monday, I told my sister I'd do laundry. I hate laundry. I recognize it needs to be done, but I hate it.

Anyway, I am not a tall woman. The people who built this house apparently expected it to be populated by giants because I can't empty the top load washer without standing on a stool. It's just a single step, and the rim of the washer's tub gets my ribs every time.

Last week, in transferring a load from the top load washer into the front load dryer, I did something that caused me to slip off the step. Usually, that would just be a frustration or a possible scene in one of the old Commedia scenarii, but I managed to hit my head hard enough to have a multi-day headache and to need a c-collar for a day. (Like an ankle or knee brace, slipping on a c-collar should never make you go "aaah" in relief as this one did.)

I don't think I sloshed my brain meat too much, but I didn't let myself drive for 48 hours because turning my head both hurt and made me a bit dizzy.

I'm fine now, but I've been kind of out of it.