Poorly Illustrated Post About Falling.

Before I get started, let me say a few things.

While I'm definitely not an athletic person, I'm not generally this clumsy.

This story is hilarious to everyone except my ribs. (And, probably, Kitty)

Also? I'm terrible with Photoshop. Apologies in advance.


Saturday, I was really clumsy. All.day.long. I had to work, and all morning long I was dropping things, knocking things over, spilling coffee... I don't know if I was tired, or just not paying attention, or what. I know at one point I asked my friend J if he thought there was a carbon monoxide leak in my tiny count room (office full of a safe and money and the like), because I was really frustrated with feeling like a bull in a China shop.

Before I ever left work, I smashed my finger with a box of pennies so hard that it broke open and bled. A lot.

So, finally, I get home. BoyWonder is lazing around, still in sweatpants. So, I sit down, kick off my shoes, and curl up on the couch with him. We're watching a basketball game, and he's trying to explain the mysterious world of basketball to me. (Hey, I already said I'm not athletic. I was the girl who went to very extreme lengths to avoid physical activity in gym class, and this especially applies to basketball.)

So, anyway. BoyWonder is explaining the game to me, and someone knocks on the door.

So, I jump up, and immediately trip over the shoes I had just taken off.

Like I said, I'm no athlete, but usually I can at least walk. So, I try to right myself, and in the very next step, trip over this cat toy.

At this point, I can kind of register BoyWonder starting to giggle from the couch, but I'm still busy trying not to die in my own living room. So, I'm still half-stumbling across my living room, and I must have startled Kitty, because at this point, she darts under my feet.

I think my big mistake here is that I tried really hard not to step on her. She's tiny, and she's thirteen years old, which is probably close to a hundred in cat years. So, in trying to not fall, and not step on my poor cat, I step on her. Twice. And I still fall. 

I landed with my ribs jammed into that pointy corner, and I knocked over the giant plant. You can't see it, really at all, because the sunlight is pouring in that window right now, but it's a money tree that's probably three-and-a-half or four feet tall. 

I should probably mention that all of this happened within three or four seconds, but in my brain it was slow-motion. 

BoyWonder was nice enough to ask me if I was okay before he answered the door. And then, he laughed at me at random intervals for the next two days. 

And yeah, I'm okay. I think I came really close to breaking some ribs, and the bruise is really wicked looking, now that it finally has some color to it. All the muscles in my chest and shoulders are really tight, though, and I bruised and scraped my knee. Oh, Kitty and the houseplants are fine, too. 

And the knock at the door? It was the guy from two houses down, coming by to let us know about the Neighborhood Watch meeting next week. I just hope he doesn't think BoyWonder is knocking me around or something.