So I think I strained my Tibialis posterior where it inserts onto metatarsal IV. How did that happen, you ask, and also what does that even mean?
Well, I kicked a wrought iron chair. Why they even ever invented wrought iron chairs I do not know — it must have been for a more shoe-wearing age. I intend to make that chair’s legs cardboard-shod before the moon sets this eve.
And what does that mean? That means I kicked a big bar of iron at full speed with my fourth toe, which it bent up very precisely and injured precisely one ligament, in the deepest part of my foot. Basically it’s the part that holds up the top of the arch of my foot. So if I place my foot firmly or try to push up off the front of my foot I am in a lot of trouble. Since it felt like a tear, a lot of trouble.
I got on it right away with lots of ice and arnica, and it wasn’t the worst tear, but man, it felt like a tear. A shocking new experience. A very precisely disabling injury, too. Don’t know what I’m going to do for work for a few days.
If you ever wanted a commission, now would be an excellent time. As it is I think I’ll just work on painting and Cloudhopper and War on Christmas.