Final Destination for reals, kinda

Okay, after I waved my resilience in the face of Karma, I broke my foot running to make the train Monday evening. I was running because I wanted to make a train, tried to jump up on the curb, and turned my ankle on account of the difference between the curb and sidewalk. I heard a POP and knew I'd done something to myself.
I went to the emergency room that night and confirmed via xray that I'd broken the outside bone on my left foot.
A trip to the Orthopaedic doc the next day, and now I have one of those anti-stylish strap-on boots I have to wear. I'm on crutches for three weeks at least, and have no idea ho wlong I'll have to wear the boot.
BOOOOOOOOO-T.
There were two independent comparisons to the movie Final Destination where the people kept cheating death until it caught up with them. The theory, then, is that I SHOULD have injured myself Saturday (see previous post).
In defense of my manly resilience, I did walk on it from in front of the lyric opera building where it happened to my train at Union station.
The worst part is how useless I feel. It's all on Kiki to get all of us out of the house in the AM now. Well, It could be worse, and I'll just have to try to heal up ASAFP.