Tomorrow's Gotta Be A Better Day!

The living room was a large open room.  Victorian pink walls, eggshell trim.  The wood floors a rich mahogany.  Countryside watercolors I did in college proudly line the walls.  The blinds of the large multi-paned window to my left are closed, fighting to hide me from the sun and the rest of the world.
I'm sitting on the afghan covered leather loveseat in front of the television.My legs are propped up on the simple rectangular coffee table with a pillow.  My right leg is encased in a white plaster cast from thigh to foot.
"Twenty-five year old American tourist, Frankie Stuckey, gored in the leg while running with the bulls, returned home yesterday..." The anchorman announced as though it was some great accomplishment.  I quickly changed the channel.  The memory of the event whipping across my consciousness like a cane to the back.  I remember running.  Running for my life.  The sound of his hooves pounding the cobblestone.  It was deafening as he closed the distance.
"OH MY GOD!  This is how I'm gonna die!" The thought screamed in my head.  That's when I fell.  As I scrambled to get running again, I felt the fire of his horn pierce the middle of my right thigh ripping up to my hip.  I heard the bone snap next.  The weightlessness of flying through the air followed.  "Is this what it feels like to be a bird?" I wondered as I landed in a heap against a storefront.  My question answered in the currents of pain electrifying every cell in my body.  The last thing I remember is watching the massive beast saunter away, his tail flicking from side to side...
No hiding from my latest act of stupidity abroad.  I toss the remote to the other end of the couch.
"Beverly?...Oh kindest, sweetest Beverly?", I call out in my most persuasive voice.
No answer.
"Hmmm, that's strange." I ponder aloud.
Beverly has been my roommate for two years. She's quite pretty...in a plain way.  Straight dirty blonde hair that refuses to be anything but straight, eyes she always refers to as "caca brown".
"Oh that's right, she left me to fend for myself today.  Something about having to start taking care of myself." I speak the words aloud hoping they will inspire me to escort myself to the bathroom. 
"I can hold it for a while.". I decide.


Two hours of grumpy bunny cartoons later, still no Beverly and my bowels feel as though they are about to rupture.  I reach over the front of the couch to retrieve my crutch.  Sliding my hand under the couch, I manage to push the head of the crutch further away.
"Ugh!"  Frustration consumes me momentarily.
"Okay.  Maybe I can use my good leg to wiggle the crutch forward!"  Excitement filling my words.  After a few minutes of struggle, the head of the crutch pops forward into my hand.
"WoooHooo!" I yell as I get myself to a standing position. 
"I mean seriously, how difficult can this be.  I've been taking myself potty for over twenty years now." I huff as I hobble, shuffle and teeter my way to the water closet.
The reality of the obstacle before me slaps across my face, stinging the edges of my eyes.  "Was the bathroom always this small?"  The powder blue walls of the half bath were only three feet apart.  The gleaming white toilet crammed between the sink and a wall.  The room seems to shrink and stretch away from me.  My shoulders droop in defeat, while the urge to purge pushes on.
"This is a dragon I must slay."  I vow in desperation.  I decide on a backwards approach.
Slowly.
One hobble after the other.
Finally, I'm there!
I slide my panties down in on fluid motion.  Staying in that position I lean back to fall centered on my porcelain throne.
Instant relief.
My broken leg leans awkwardly across the front of the sink to my right.  My other foot pressing flat against the wall facing me.  A balancing act worthy of circus stardom.
"At least the seat's dry"  I think thankfully.  "Wait, why does my butt feel wet?...Oh noooo..."I shriek as I slide off the commode faster than an oiled pig on ice.
I land on my back in a full split along the wall.  The smell of defeat wafting from the thick streak up my back glued me to the floor. 
"Tomorrow's gotta be a better day!"