InsaneJournal

Current mood:	bruised
Current music:	Joni Mitchell - Both Sides, Now

*whingy whingy spammity spam*
I always forget just how much I hate my parents' door handles until I walk into one again.

They hate me, I swear. They're at exactly the same level as my hips and I have an annoying talent for walking into things, so I've spent half my life with bruises. They also seem to be very good at slipping underneath belt loops and pulling them off clothes, so most of the trousers I've owned since I was about 13 have ended up all rippy and frayed and having to be fixed, only to get attacked by another bloody door handle a few days later. Blouses don't survive much better.

(Gah!)

That I could put up with. But yesterday I managed to stand up into one (and please don't ask me how, because I'm still trying to figure that out) and bashed the bottom two ribs on my left side, and they're all sore and achy and bruised. *ouch* Hate hate hate.

On the good side, all of the fanfic is safely archived in its own shiny community at IJ now :) Just one more comm to shift, plus anything here I decide I want to hang onto, and my work is done.