I suppose I wasn’t named Grace for a reason. If I were named Grace, it would be the most wonderful instance of irony that ever occurred.
This morning at work, I hit myself in the head with the bathroom door. Yes, you read that right. I hit myself in the head with the bathroom door.
I have done some interestingly stupid and clumsy things in my life, but this one just takes the cake. I was just trying to walk into the bathroom, opened the door and rammed it right into my head. No one else was near me. I really should pay more attention to what I’m doing.
I’ve been clumsy my entire life. A few weeks ago, I cut my thumb while trying to slice a PRE-SLICED bagel…it just wasn’t pre-sliced well enough. The job probably could’ve been done with a butter knife or a fork, but I just HAD to go with the fillet knife. Yes, fillet knife for bread.
A few weeks before that, I heard my cell phone ringing in the kitchen while I was in the bedroom. I came running through the living room, turned to run into the kitchen, tripped over my 100 pound dog (how did I not see him there?? He weighs 100 pounds and is solid black…) and fell face first into the island and landed on the floor…cell phone in hand. I did answer the call…even though I was almost crying.
And this one sticks out because it hurt so bad. A couple of years ago, the light in our garage burned out. We are lazy about that kind of thing, so we didn’t fix it until this happened: the garage was packed full of stuff because we were building tables for our living room. I was going to the car through the garage and didn’t have a garage door opener for some reason. I took mental inventory in the mostly-dark garage and then proceeded to push the button and run under the garage door. My mental inventory sucked and I fell down on a pile of wood. I mean I fell down HARD. I just laid there on the garage floor. Husband opened the door from the house, looked around in the dark, didn’t see me and shut the door. He didn’t even see me lying there…almost dead! I had bruises and pains for WEEKS from that one. But atleast I didn’t get stuck under the garage door!!
I am always stubbing my toes and running into things. At any given time, I could have 0 to 57 bruises on me…depending on how much I’ve been drinking and what I’ve been doing. I trip over my 100 pound and 65 pound solid black dogs very often…probably once a day. If there is ice on the ground, it will find me and make me fall down. Husband supervises all of my activities that include sharp or heavy (I’ll drop them on my feet) objects.
How do I get less clumsy? I’d like to think that it’s possible for me to lack a little LESS social grace. Any ideas? Anyone?
