Clumsy is as Clumsy Does

July 29, 2010 at 2:14 pm (Uncategorized) (, , , , , , , , , , , )

My mom calls me Grace for a reason – I’ve been blundering around since I was a kid and she likes to make fun of me (remember the whole I-won’t-pay-for-ballet-because-you’re-too-clumsy story?).  I run into stationary objects such as door frames, walls and chairs all the time.  I trip a lot, often over my very own feet.  I drop things, spill things and am generally not very graceful.  Obviously my mom enjoys her sarcasm.  It was worse when I was younger and I like to think that I’ve grown out of total awkwardness and into a sort of elegant clumsiness that I can somewhat control.  It’s what I tell myself anyway.

My clumsiness is endearing

I do manage to use my cat-like reflexes to catch many of the things I drop before they hit the ground, and I’ve made some spectacular saves in my day.  And for as often as I trip I rarely fall all the way down (I’d like to thank both my spastic agility and big feet for this).  So for the most part I manage, but every now and then I have a day where everything I do seems to result in a personal injury.  Yesterday was one of these days.

The story of my life

A light bulb was out in one of the kid’s bathrooms here at the office, so I grabbed a chair and attempted to change it.  Notice I say attempted.  The fixture over the bulb must have been put on by magic because I tried for a while to get it removed.  Then I sliced open my finger on some unseen part and decided to give up.  I’m no match for curses or spells put on electrical fixtures.  I put a Band-Aid on my finger and went on with my day.

Then it was lunch.  Our office treated us yesterday and I ordered a sandwich with banana peppers.  They gave me jalapeno, which I realized when the juice leaked into my open wound.  That was fun.  After lunch, I was moving some boxes of files around and completely lost my grip, causing a roughly 30 pound box to scrape down the side of my arm and land on my foot.  That was fun too, and I had a nice red mark on my forearm to prove it.

After work, I made my way to the food pantry for a few hours of volunteering (super awesome in a basement without AC,

These can cause a surprising world of pain

let me tell you).  Part of my duty at the pantry is to help our elderly, disabled or otherwise immobile clients up the stairs when they have carts like the one seen here.  Keep in mind that their carts are usually loaded down with anywhere from 40 – 80 pounds of food at any given time.  I really get a work out doing this and I don’t mind but as I was helping one woman in particular yesterday, I hurt myself yet again.  Granted this time it wasn’t entirely my fault, as the woman I was helping didn’t have all of her mental capabilities and didn’t realize she was smashing my foot in between the cart and the stair.  My sandal wearing foot.  Even after I told her twice that it was trapped, she kept on shoving her cart against my flesh.  I finally disengaged myself and limped her cart outside, then took a quick moment to make sure all of my toes were still there.  This was not the same foot I dropped the box on, so I had that going for me.  Right?

After the pantry I felt like I should find a helmet for my walk home but I managed to make it without anymore injuries.  I did manage to give myself a minor burn as I was taking my dinner out of the microwave but after the day I had it hardly seems worth it to mention.  I was worried about taking a shower because I could envision myself slipping and busting my head but I tempted fate, had a shower beer and all was fine.

Grace prevails in the end.

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