So, I fell down the stairs.
Yeah, that sounds way worse than it was. Honestly, my feet slipped out from under me and I landed on my back, bruising my back and my tail bone, and whacking the back of my head hard enough that I had a headache all day, yesterday.
Yes, I'm really talented at falling. Also, I think Stacey's staircase is trying to kill me.
For anyone out there who doesn't know about our living situation, here's an overview:
We are renting a townhome, with Stacey, who may as well be my sister. Miles and Patrick and I have the two bedrooms on the second floor, Stacey's bedroom is in the basement, and the main floor is a common area. Rent is way cheaper, and honestly, she was at our place 90% of the time anyway. This way, I just don't have to worry about her driving home when she's so sleepy she can hardly keep her eyes open.
So far, it's been awesome to have her here. And I'm not just saying that because I know she'll read this. It really is awesome. I'm not even sure if she's human. Humans should have more flaws and annoying habits. Her worst one? Blaring Disney music while she showers. Which I can totally dig.* I'm sure my list of annoying habits is about to drive her away, but in the meantime? She does the dishes most days, which lightens my load considerably. And she watches Miles while I cook dinner, or any other time I ask. And last night, when I was so stiff and sore from my tumble, Stacey took over so I could just sit and whine about how much I hurt. And she sat, and listened, and sympathized. Because she's an awesome friend.
Even if her stairs are trying to kill me.
*She has no idea that I sing and dance along downstairs with Miles every time she showers.**
**Oops. Guess she does now! :)