I have the stupidest injury in the world.
My big toe has been injured. To be more specific, the joint where my toe meets my foot is swollen and hurts. To be even more specific, the join hurts right on that spot where your foot would make contact with the floor if you stood on your toes.
Or if you were wearing high heels.
I only wear high heels to fancy occasions and job interviews, which is to say that I only wear high heels on job interviews. Sure, they look fabulous while you are standing in front of the mirror, pretending that you are on the Red Carpet. For any practical movement (like, say, walking), however, they serve more like the toga did for the old Roman Senators: the inability to move easily in the garment demonstrated that they held such a high position that they did not have to move at all. Such are high heels.
So, why would I wear them to interviews? Well, they make me feel grown-up, they make me look bad-ass professional, and they go great with my suits. Otherwise, they sit pretty in my closet, taunting me with aggressive femininity. "Yeah," they seem to say, sounding surprisingly like Jack Nicholson, "you want to look fabulous, but can you handle the pain?" Fabulous is not for the weak of sole.
So, I was at this interview, wearing these shoes, thankful that we were always in such small quarters and seated in such a way that no one would notice that I had forgotten to cover the tattoo on my ankle. I had walked from my hotel room to my car. From the car to the hotel desk. From the hotel desk to the car. From the car to the student center. From the student center to the interview room. From the interview room to the Dean's office. From the Dean's office to the car. From the car to the rest stop bathroom, where I changed into my jeans and tennis shoes. This was perhaps a grand total of 100 yards, if that much. I did nothing unusual. I did not slip and fall. I did not kick anything or anyone. Just walked. And I somehow managed to injure my toe.
This is really the stupidest injury in the world.