And They All Fall Down

March 9, 2015 at 8:05 pm (Uncategorized) (, , , , )

My streak is over. Here we are at the tail-end of winter and this morning I slipped and fell for the first time all season. We had great weather all weekend (and by great, I mean it got above freezing!) and the mounds of snow we’ve been dealing with for weeks finally began to melt. Which is all fine and dandy, until it got cold again overnight and turned all of that water into some lovely black ice. I could tell right away that the walk to the train was going to be a slippery one and I didn’t get more than a couple of blocks from home before it happened. I lost my footing and hit the concrete. Well, technically, part of me hit the concrete as I was able to sort of catch myself before my ass kissed the ground. I managed to hit with my wrist and knee, but the gloves and knee-socks I was wearing prevented any breakage of skin. Still, it hurt and was not a great start to my Monday. My pants were dirty (but not torn, which is good because they’re brand-spanking-new) and I didn’t have enough time to turn around to go home to change so I’ve been strategically crossing my legs all day. That’s just how we dirty ladies roll.


No one witnessed my not-so-graceful tumble so that’s something. At least, I don’t think anyone witnessed it – I did a quick look around after pulling myself back upright and it seemed deserted, so at least my pride was intact. But I’m pretty bummed about the fall in general, as this was the first time in roughly 8 years that I had a decent chance of making it out of winter without any major falls. And this one wasn’t really major (I define major as something that will leave a bruise bigger than a tea saucer someplace on my person) so perhaps I’ll pretend it never happened and continue with counting this winter as a win. Except I’m blogging about it on the internet, so I guess it’ll never go away now.

I can only blame myself. And that damn black ice.

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Adult Supervison Required

September 8, 2011 at 8:36 am (Uncategorized) (, , , , , , , , , )

Catsby is better today than she was yesterday and I’m trying to make myself quit freaking out so much so today I’ll tell a story from last weekend.  The story of how I wound up injured and bleeding in my own backyard.

That's about right

Saturday night I had some old high school friends out to my mom’s house for a few beers and a visit.  The bf and I got there first and wandered to the backyard, where I visited the grave of the 20-year-old kitty Mom had to put down a few weeks ago.  I paid my respects and turned around to come face to face with the steps to the treehouse my dad had built with some friends back when I was a wee tyke.  Standing there next to my deceased childhood cat, something came over me.  I decided to try to relive my childhood.  I have no idea when the last time was that someone tried to climb the wooden steps to the top of the treehouse, much like I have no idea why I thought it would be smart to attempt it myself.  But of course I did it anyway.  The lowest two steps were still attached and I gingerly stepped up, testing my weight on each one before moving on.  The next few steps were broken off (you’d think this would be my cue to get back on the ground but no) so I used that hard-earned college education and kept on climbing.  I was perhaps five feet off the ground when every single step snapped and I slid down the wood like an idiot character in a bad cartoon.

Yes, it hurt.  I managed to give myself a six-inch bruise on my upper left arm, a small bruise on my right arm and a nice gash and corresponding additional bruise on my right shin.  Yes, I cried and yes, I kicked myself for pulling such a smooth move.  At least my mom got a laugh out of it and we know officially know we can’t climb the treehouse anymore.  And to be honest I’ve been just a tad fascinated by the bruising I’ve achieved.  I haven’t injured myself this well in a while and there are enough colors on my arm to fill a crayon box.  It’s looking a little better though and I no longer have the urge to limp so it appears that Catsby isn’t the only one on the mend.

This experience also taught me I can’t just go gallivanting around, trying to relive my childhood.  Apparently I’m a real grown up now.  But that means I have the ability and appropriate permissions to drive to a hardware store, buy more wood and use a hammer and nails to put the steps back together.  Then I can climb to my heart’s content!    Or allow other family children to experience the joys of the treehouse.

After me, of course.

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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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