Like an idiot, I broke my foot today. I was running sideways down my driveway in flip flops trying to keep my dog from running into the street. I succeeded in keeping Eugene from running into certain death only to trip over myself and roll all my weight onto my left foot, snapping the bone that runs along the side of my foot to my pinky toe. Yeoch.

I can’t seem to stop crying, not from the pain (although it hurts like bloody hell) but because I was so excited to start this new adventure in my life. Three days ago I up and quit my job to put 100% into my antique business. I had so many estate sales in my near future! So many flea markets lined up to attend and also ones that I wanted to be a vendor at, but now? Now I’m on crutches for a minimum of six weeks! Six weeks? How will I manage going through entire houses looking for treasures at estate sales when I can barely make it 3 yards to the bathroom in my own house???

I feel so lost, sad, disappointed and broken all at once. :(