Should I Press Charges Against Myself?

I just have to tell someone about the pain I've been in for the last three days.  This mini-tale falls under the "Humongous Dork-Face" category-- but at this point in my life that's a comfortably familiar place for me.  I haven't told a soul about it yet, (being, ironically, too embarrassed) but figured what-the-heck, might as well just tell the whole dumb story on my blog.

Here goes....  I punched myself in the face.  Hard.  Like, I'm surprised there's no black eye or at least some colorful bruising.  It hurts when I smile.  It hurts when I wash my face.  It just plain hurts!  

You see, I was very nearly asleep-- the one obstacle in the way of full unconsciousness being the fact I was practically freezing.  Hubby is a notorious bedding hog, and so I clenched the covers tightly in my fist and began to pull hard.  Well, that sucker must have been all wrapped up nice and toasty-warm because those dang sheets weren't moving off him an inch.  So, I pulled harder...lost my grip and...BAM, right in the cheek bone.  I wasn't so sleepy after that-- just mad.  Mad, hurting, and still cold.

That was three nights ago.  And my face is still sore, goshdarnitall!  So if I see you in the next couple days, please refrain from making me laugh.  It hurts.