I got hit in the head by a cone-bearing tree.

A couple times a day, a friend at work and I go outside and meet up with Rick #1 and Rick #2 and the four of us have a meeting of the minds. The Rick's are photographers who work two floors below us. And I'm serious about the "meeting of the minds" shit - if the four of us were working together on the city council or whatever, shit would get done. The right way.

Rick #2 wasn't there for our first meeting and we were graced with the presence of a female CFO from the graphics arts firm on 2nd floor. So we're talking and suddenly something hits me in the head. Hard. I have a cut near my hairline to prove it. That little bastard above fell out of the tree onto my head as if it were thrown at me purposefully. And it's solid. And prickly. No squirrels. Just the tree. These mothers periodically drop every day, but it's the first time any of us have gotten injured.

Yes, I'm injured, OK? I wonder if it's a Christmas omen of some sort? I'm gonna go put some Cortaid on my wound now.