So  yesterday I was unpacking, bent down in the closet, straightened up, and whanged my head with great force against the corner of one of my watercolor palette trays. It’s hard plastic, and it got me pretty good, right in the forehead. I staggered a bit, clapped a hand to my head, and made that inhaled hiss through my teeth that you make in such situations.

And then I forgot about it, ‘cos, y’know, I’m easily distracted.

This morning I was attending to a call of nature and Ben jumped up on the bathroom counter and headbutted me, one of his favorite morning greetings, it hurt. When I checked in the mirror, sure enough, there’s a big red bruise on the side of my forehead. Fortunately my hair covers it, or else my explanations might be awkward–“No, really, my watercolors beat me up. No, it wasn’t a boyfriend. No, really!”

Obviously I am in an abusive relationship with my art supplies.

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