Shoulda got the Zoom Kobe 4’s 🤷🏽‍♀️

(For context regarding the title of this post, watch this. 😩😂🏀)

Thursday evening, while heading to the back porch to relax with Mr. Huff, I missed two steps, twisted my ankle, and landed on my back like a bug. 😫🙄🦗🐜I was terrified it was broken, and with my job ending soon, I lay there panicking while he scrambled out of his lawn chair, yelling “Babe, are you playing or you really hurt?!”


I’m a bit dramatic.

OK. I’m very dramatic. Fine. But to be fair, it’s inherited! My mother is an Oscar winning actress just for fact that she exists. You don’t know dramatic til you know my mama. And I say that in love. 😘😂

So anyway, he’s asking am I joking or not while helping me gingerly to my feet. I felt warmth shooting from my right shin to the tips of my toes. Aagggh! I rotated my foot a few times and pointed it toward the sky then the ground. Since I could do all that, I figured it wasn’t broken. He looked at me warily and said “Well I think you should get it checked out”. I rolled my eyes into a double axel and told him I’d do it only if I couldn’t stand or walk the next day.

Shole nuff, I got up the next morning and while my foot hadn’t swelled at all, the area that hurt the night before was in much worse pain; and to top it off, I could barely stand on it! I let boss lady know I wouldn’t be in and got myself propped up on the couch with a bag of frozen corn resting oddly on my ashy ankle. After Mr. Huff called me on his breakfast break, crossly implying that I should have already gone to the local urgent care center, I dragged myself off the couch into an Uber and crossed my fingers hoping to not spend my entire Friday afternoon there.

Thankfully, I DIDN’T break it, and I had no qualms about being plucky (as my dad often calls me) in my room while I awaited discharge papers.

I wrote a snarky message on the chalkboard in my room. I love that they make accommodations for people with children or just those who wanna create and express themselves while waiting to be treated. 😂

“Don’t tek mi fi eediat” is a Jamaican phrase essentially meaning “don’t treat me like I’m stupid/an idiot.” No, the staff hadn’t done anything to insult my intelligence, I just felt like being plucky. 😈😇🇯🇲

Next, I hobbled over to Chipotle, across the parking lot from the urgent care place, but getting there felt like I was walking on the Great Frontier. I had on an ankle brace, a post-op shoe (the kind that no matter what you do, you look like ya shoe is on the wrong foot 🤦🏽‍♀️), AND a pair of crutches. People were very helpful, although I was heavy laden. Imagine maneuvering a dine in tray while wearing an Eskimo coat, carrying a bookbag AND a purse?!

The young lady at the register told me she’d get my napkins but things got busy so I hopped to the utensils and condiments, sheepishly grinning at her when I returned to my seat. “Oh I would’ve gotten it for you!” I smiled and replied “Nah it’s OK. You’re at work! You got busy.”, and I thought for a moment if people with permanent disabilities dealt with that on a regular basis. I managed to climb into an Uber to go home, ready for a nap.

Saturday was rest filled. I don’t remember much of it. I focused on staying off my foot and sleeping. Sunday, Mr. Huff had a vending opportunity for his brand Love More Bmore at Creative Alliance. I went with him and networked a bit, spoke with some artists we know, and tried some crab pizza from this place called Matthew’s Pizzeria across the street.

I guess I had an eventful weekend. Almost hard to believe I’ll be on vacation in two weeks. In theory, I’m excited. The reality is that my recent job issues have cast a bit of a shadow on my quickly approaching relaxation time. I know I’ll be fine and will figure out what my next steps will be, but with my trip two weeks away as well as two weeks before my contract ends, I am a bit nervous. I’ll keep yall updated as time dwindles down.💞