...my toes hurt. So does a spot on the back of my leg, about an inch and a half up from my cankle. It's all hard and swollen. Yum.
The good news is that Steve's brother dropped off a bunch of DC metropasses left over from his NSA days. Each one has a few bucks left, which he says might not get me all the way to wherever I'm going but I can just drop in a couple quarters. This must mean that DC has a vile zone-based pricing system. (London has it too, which is great when you're slumming it at the end of the Piccadilly line. I wound up buying an unlimited ride card nearly every day.) You know you're screwed when you're wishing something could be more like Boston.