I think maybe the title to this should probably be "she falls like a ton of bricks and makes the ground shake" but that's a lot longer and not nearly as kind to my poor self-esteem. For some reason or another here lately I've had a string of stupid falls resulting in either humiliation or pain, but mostly just pain.
A few weeks ago I opened my front door into my face. I was seriously opening the HECK out of the door. I was bringing in the groceries, and somehow managed to crack the storm-door right into my face - managing to crank it right into my nose and left eye. I fell into the house, and laid on the floor for a while moaning. I actually almost passed out, but not quite. I couldn't stay long though as I had brought home dinner also, and didn't want it to get cold. Sandy wanted to know if I'd concussed myself. Probably.
Later that night I had taken off my glasses (I wear contacts during the day and glasses at night) and was rubbing my swollen nose. I was walking back from the garbage cans in the dark, with my glasses off, and somehow I managed to fall over a bush. This would be the same bush that I've walked around almost every day for the last seven years. Anyway, I landed sort of tee peed over the bush with my behind in the air... butt crack all flashing for anyone with night goggles to see as my shirt was part-ways over my head and I was wearing low rise jeans (which are only made for skinny teenaged girls wearing cute thongs and sporting tattoos of butterflies over their cracks - none of which applies to me). I was face down with my face inches from my concrete stoop. I thought, "I sure hope nobody is watching tonight". That didn't hurt but I sure did feel stupid.
Then this past weekend at the trial I managed to fall out of Robin's camper. Twice. That's right. Normal people would maybe fall out once, but oh no. Twice. The first time I didn't hurt myself, I only felt stupid. The second time I had puppies in my arms and it was like puppy popcorn. I turned over my ankle - and it is still swollen up now. In fact... I have a cankle. That's when you can't tell your calf from your ankle. I don't think it's broken, and I know this because of my surperior armchair doctoring skills. Oh yeah, I'll probably be banned from the campers of all triallers... destined to only stand on the ground and look in longingly. After all, who wants a chick falling out of their camper on a regular basis?
In response to my own personal stupidity and misery I ate two pieces of cake yesterday. After tonight with Pam I will have indulged in bacon cheese fry debauchery multiple times this week. I have upped my quota of F Bombs for the week. If F Bombs were gas I could drive for a month without having to fill up. I've had orange fire shoot out of my eye sockets more than once in the last week, and watched four episodes of Grey's Anatomy back to back last night. I road-raged two different people on my three mile drive home from work yesterday.
I think a donut would make me feel better. Eh, make that a dozen donuts spread out over two days. That, and not hurting myself for a few weeks. Yes, I'd like a hiatus from stupid accidents until at least December. I don't think that's asking too much.