Don't mime me, but...

I left the house for work yesterday and realized that I looked like a mime. All I needed was a beret and a red scarf tied around my neck. I don't mind mimes, I see no purpose for them, but I prefer them to clowns. Clowns are evil incarnate. The picture shows my great imitation of a mimm. Perhaps I should have gone to Paris to learn mime... I'm either pulling a rope or digging a grave.

I also realized that I have now made my self un- anonymous when I posted a picture last week of myself with the ugly chicken. I should have blocked out my face with that black line, the one they put across peoples faces in magazines when you're identified as a "DON'T". That is on my list of things I want to do with my life. To get those 15 minutes of fame by being a "DON'T" in Glamour magazine. One day...
The mim picture was taking just before I banged up my toe. I'm now limping about and unable to continue my walk/run program I'd only started last week! It's all my sister's fault for leaving a bunch of boxes around that I had to keep stepping around, which led me to bang my right foot against the wall, not once but twice. My 4th toe on my right foot is currently a lovely shade of purple. I would like to also add, that when I last left something that blocked the path to the kitchen, and my sister tripped and fell, hurt her knee and yelled at me til she was blue in the face, that I in fact did not yell at her. Instead, I've been making her feeling guilty and she has been trying to make up for her horrible act of cruelty by being her usually over-nice self. Can I get you some tea? Do you want the ice pack for your foot? Let me re-arrange the pillows so you're more comfortable while you watch your favorite movie. Let me drive to McDonald's to pick you up an ice cream.... heh heh. Things you learn as a youngest child.