They're not all slam-dunks but sometimes a vision comes in the form of a concussion. You could be just stepping in the door, earbuds still in, boppin’ to Ariana Grande’s new album (fine, “Break Free” on repeat), and suddenly smash your head into the corner of your laundry room cupboard for the 80th time. (In my defence, the fucker jars out ominously from a blindspot upon entrance.) This morning, I woke to find dried blood in my hair — fun! It still hurts to touch and the goos