It's a good thing I really like my couch. Because I've spent the last 6 days on it. But I'm healing fast. Maybe I'll be able to get out of the apartment soon. And see real people. Ooh. Real conversations. Strange, for introverted little me to have gone totally stir-crazy in less than a week.
My leg is massively bruised due to last Sunday's tumble down a black diamond slope. My fiance was the only one person to see the tumble, and he said it looked terrifying. I got to ride in one of those ski stretchers. Which are not comfortable, if you ever wondered; the snow/slush/ice kicked up by the ski patrol guy kept hitting my face at high velocity. Fun times. The "bruise" is technically an anterior compartment contusion, so now I'm all contused, ha. I'm not so sure they should really be allowed to call it a bruise, because there's no discoloration at all, which I find disheartening -- if I'm going to be laid up on the couch for 2-6 weeks and miss the rest of the ski season, I want something to show for it!!! Hmm. Is that weird? Or just masochistic.