Broken

I fractured my foot yesterday. I'm on crutches. I am soo over the little things. Getting dressed, bathing, and simply waking up are chores. My body is tired. Walking on crutches is a cardio workout that I never want to experience again. Not being able to walk has opened my eyes to a whole new world. Thank God and legislation for handicapped bathrooms, railings, and ramps. I'm realizing that my apartment really isn't ideal for one with a temporary handicap. There are 5 stairs that separate me from the entrance to my apartment complex and my apartment door. I loathe them. I haven't quite mastered them. I can't blame anyone but myself. I am fiercely independent and this fractured foot won't let me great. I'm not sure if these tears are due to PMS or the fact that my daily life has become one huge chore. I can't call it and I can't really worry about it. I have two finals, Monday and Tuesday respectively. I wish I could drive. At least, I would be able to go to work  Money is the motive
I'm sick of talking about how I hurt my foot. I'm sick of people thinking my clumsy tale is funny. When you actually hear your bone break.....it's not really a laughing matter. I'm sick of people asking if I need anything (let's be honest....who's really gonna follow through?...I'll wait. People say things because those are the nice things you are supposed to say. I'm convinced most people don't mean it when they are actually called to action *shrugs*)
My follow up appointment on Thursday is the light at the end of this clumsy tunnel.
The only thing is there are 120 hours between now and then.