I neglected to mention that when I woke up to Anita & Alvin having sex on Saturday morn, I knocked on the wall to try to get them to shut up -- & damaged my hand. The concrete wall is, well, concrete, which was not what I expected; basically, I tried to kung-fu a brick.
Today I finally conceded, heading to the ER to get things checked out. The conclusion? A metacarpal contusion with risk of fracture, a.k.a. a large bruise that could possibly turn into a small break. The solution? A splint that I have to wear for a week.
In short, I hurt my hand as a result of someone else's sex life. Tell me that's a common ER story.
Also, this took me about 20 minutes to write because my gigantron fingers keeping entering errant punctuation marks. That's right -- your Suburban Sweetheart is officially a big city gimp.