Well,yesterday I lived up to one of the nicknames that I have acquired over the years -- Grace. As I was walking to my car after having my split ends trimmed by the local hair clipper, I tripped over one of those little curbs in the parking lot, bumming up my left elbow and knee, ruining my only good pair of brown pants, and further irritating my right wrist, which has lately had twinges of the returning carpel tunnel pain that I thought had gone away when I had surgery ten years ago. To add insult to injury, as I tried to catch myself with my right hand, which was clutching my keys, I hit the buttons which both popped up the trunk and set off the car alarm. Nothing like calling attention to my clumsiness.
It is amazing to me that I can wreck a car without having a scratch or a bruise, yet injure myself by merely walking through a parking lot. But this would not be first encounter with cement. In the fifth grade, I broke my arm when I tripped over a crack in the sidewalk while participating in a walking race. And about two years ago, I was walking through the parking lot of a nearby apartment complex trying to find my then-fifteen-year-old son, who should have been home long before, I tripped over a speed bump, falling on my chin. I honestly think I cracked it. And although no one saw me fall that time, when I went to work the next day, one of my vicious co-workers started a rumor that my son had beaten me up. When the boss heard the rumor, she called me into the office to find out if I needed the services of the State's EAP counselor. I don't know if she ever believed my story. But if you knew me, you would.
Posted by Moona at February 17, 2005 09:59 AM | TrackBack