Murderous Chalet

I've been staying up at my family's chalet (or, Shawlet, since I'm the only one here at the moment) for the last few days while Marc's been in Newmarket working on a thermography job. Now, this place is where I spent my first Christmas and almost every winter weekend until I left for university. One could assume that since I've spent such a large part of my time here, I'd know my way around.
However, there has been a extreme chalet makeover and things are not where they once were.

In total, the newly-designed chalet has tried to kill me twice and really seemed to be invested in getting me as bruised as possible for a friend's upcoming wedding on Saturday.

Both attempts on my life happened at night when I was making my way to the ladies' room (as I'm the only one here). The first night, I was staying in the bedroom upstairs because it has a ceiling fan and it was h-o-t. I don't know if they are especially poking out doorknobs, but one rammed into the side of my hip, which turned me around and I ran smack into the wall, almost chipping my tooth.
Last night, I slept downstairs, and there was a treacherous rubber boot that was sticking out really far out from the shoe rack. Obviously, my huge big toe caught the side of one of the boots and I went flying into the side of the staircase.
So, between the midnight assassination attempts and the higher-than-average bed frames (whose corners have left a smattering of bruises on my thighs) it appears like I have participated in some type of elite forces training camp (or a crossfit class, haha!).

In a few hours, I'll be off to join Marc in Newmarket tonight and then we leave for Tremblant in the morning.

Hopefully my in-law's house isn't in on the hit.

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