My heart bleeded, girl

Aw, no J-E-T-S Jets-Jets-Jets in the playoffs. I don't hate Peyton and the Colts, I just prefer the Jets.

For the NFC, I do like Brett a lot, although tonight I'd like to see New Orleans win. It's very soothing to not really care this year.

Good grief, Larry's gout in his big toe (yes, he has gout, and he doesn't take kindly to Henry the 8th jokes) is acting up, and he's hobbling around like his leg is broken in three places. He's going to hurt himself doing that. He just paused halfway up the stairs and looked at me pitifully, saying, "It just hurts so much." I have bitten my tongue until it's almost bleeding, can I just say?

I saw my orthopedist on Thursday and he said my leg is most likely a stress fracture, duh, and that it should have healed by now. Since it hasn't, he wanted me to dig out my boot and my crutches, which I actually already had, I just hadn't used them for more than a day at a time, because they're A PAIN IN THE ASS. I'm having an MRI on Wednesday to confirm the diagnosis. My insurance company is going to tell me to stop running soon. Fuck 'em, is what I say. Anyway, I'm trying to be conscientious about weight-bearing. Maybe a few weeks off it completely and it will finally heal.

My j2_everafter story has turned into a Regency Romance version of Cinderella. It will certainly not reach Georgette Heyer heights, but I hope it's at least mildly amusing. I decided writing in that style gives me license to use as many adverbs as I want to.

My DVR is set for PBS's latest version of "Emma."

I still haven't gotten tired of listening to Justin and Matt sing "Hallelujah."