My dog left a trail of slobber on the tile and I slipped on it, my hand skinning the door frame ending in my hand bleeding and my butt hurting like hell, *nods*
All you need is faith, trust, and a little bit of pixie-dust!
He began to wonder why he had felt uneasy at all. It was like a man wondering in broad daylight why a dream had appeared so terrible to him at night. — Chinua Achebe, Things Fall Apart
