Oh, the pain (Ode to the smushed toe

Picture this:

There is this beautiful chaise lounge at Costco...it could fit 2 people on it (hello cuddlefest) or a person and a dog (which will be me and Tobias, let's be honest).

It's perfect. So, of course, I buy it. The problem is, it's heavy and awkward and now I need to get it into my house and downstairs where I want it to reside. ​

Did I say problem? No problem! I have a Brosef with muscles to help me carry it.

New problem: Box won't fit through door.

NO PROBLEM! I will cut it out of the box like a genius!

So I begin cutting. Cut. Cut. Cut. I'm wearing flip flops, because shoes are important while moving furniture. Cut. Cut. Cut...
Randomly lose my balance and launch my foot into the corner of the box.

Commence stream of unintelligible yelling on front porch, to which Brosef says "Kelsey, shhh...you have neighbors."
And I reply, "DON'T CARE! TOE AARRRRRRRRGH!"

Now, in pain, I've triumphantly cut the chaise free. I'm hella pissed and fired up to get this thing taken care of.

Mission complete. Chaise is in place. I return up the stairs and see...

Blood, gushing from my toe.

You see, I didn't just stub my toe...I tore off the pretty little toenail that resides upon it. OUCH! (See, Brosef...I totally had a right to shout it loudly from the porch, despite the neighbors.)

It's funny how stupid things in life can become metaphorical revelations.
Sometimes we want something, are willing to work for it, put time and effort into it...we slave away and do things most people would say scrawny little blondes could not do (or is that just me?).
It's so worth it. We have what we wanted. The Chaise is in place and it's the best seat in the house. Life. is. Good.

Except there's always a cost. The chaise cost me money, sure, but what it really cost was days of stupid limping. 

We work hard for things, but we don't come out unscathed. Whatever it is you're working for--writing, music, job promotion, family...it doesn't matter. You aren't going to go through all of that effort and walk out without any bruises.
Or any broken toes.
Or noses.
Or glasses maybe, I don't know. Things break.

The point is, despite all of the pain shooting up from whatever or wherever (likely heart pain. Sorry guys. It's going to suck), we keep moving forward (Hey! Walt Disney!). 

We don't stop.
We press on.
We push past the pain and defy the odds by carrying the damn heavy chaise down the stairs and into the proper place.

In the end, it's so worth it. In the end you forget the pain required to succeed. You're ready to do it again.

Game on, life. I can take whatever you want to throw at me. I will win.

But in the future? Well, I'll wear close-toed shoes. ​