On the way to my vanity

This morning the corner of the bathroom cabinet door spiked me in the forehead. I staggered a bit, thinking what a crappy way to die. Of all the doors to leave open. And only myself to blame. So I sat down on the edge of the tub to collect myself. Mostly I didn't want to topple onto the toilet. A head-on with The Thomas Crapper would be just my luck. I've heard enough stories about people meeting their maker that way. No way I want a last name like mine stuck to a story like that.