Monday, Bloody Monday

I totally had a “Romy and Michele” moment on the way home from work tonight.

No, I didn’t claim to invent Post-Its.

Nor did I perform a mesmerizing dance to “Time After Time.”

I did, however, unknowingly cut my foot and then my shoe filled up with blood. No, really.

I realized it as my train approached — where I managed to get a seat, despite my pathetic hobbling. The seat turned out to be a front-row pass for a homeless man’s keyboard playing and “I’m Broke, It Ain’t No Joke” serenade.

Safe to say, this girl needs a drink. And a Band-Aid.

Courtesy of

Do you have some sort of business woman special?

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About Wittyburg

Sarcastic, sports-obsessed writer & FL native navigating SF.

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