It was called, get through life without using crutches and/or a broken foot boot.
Apparently, life had other plans. And when I say life, I mean the stairs in my apartment building. So there I am, laying in the hallway in a pile of math homework trying not to cry. But lots of nice people came to the rescue, aka Shane carried me to my apartment cause I couldn't walk and Tracie spent half an hour putting her foot brace on me and icing my ankle and Tori got me painkillers and Jasmine kept me supplied with fresh ice packs and Morgan didn't kill me when I knocked my water out of its cup and onto her computer/homework.
So here's where I wear a boot and look ridiculous, which isn't exactly fair since my foot isn't technically fractured. Turns out damaging the tendons in your foot and ankle qualifies you for a broken foot boot anyway. But there is an upside! It is big enough that my swollen bruised ankle fits inside a whole lot easier than inside my normal shoes. So it's fine. Life is good. And the guy who fitted me for the boot told me that I don't have to use crutches even though the doctor told me I should. Bullet one/ boot: hit me right in the foot. Bullet two/crutches: successfully dodged. Score.
Take that, stairs!