Now, I am sure you’re presently thinking of a multitude of answers that could answer the above question but I pose such a quandary in reference to a specific string of disturbing incidents, all in which I have suffered through unintended self-inflicted pain. Yes, I am a klutz, but when I seem to have walked into large, sharp objects three times in less than a week, I can only wonder if there is something else going on...
Need more explanation? Look no further...
Last Wednesday I was walking out of the Equinox Pilates Studio after my 6:30 am class and walked right into the sharp edge of a counter. I seem to bruise like a peach because by the next day I had a nasty looking welt on my left bicep. Over the course of the weekend the bruise only seemed to increase in size and in nasty purple-ish color, although today it’s finally diminishing. In any case, it was painful and I felt odd walking around looking like an abused girlfriend--especially when every person who asked me what happened received a total letdown upon learning it was through my own inability to walk
Yesterday while cleaning up the disaster zone our apartment morphed into post Saturday-night activities I walked into a bike. Yes, there was a bike in our living room. A large beach cruiser. And I walked right into. A pedal to be precise, and I now have a seriously large bump and bruise near my right ankle. This also required me to sit on the sofa for some time and use a bag of frozen broccoli to ice my wound. Not fun.
Today might be my worst klutz moment yet. While putting away some Flip cameras into the cupboards behind my desk I stood up quickly, only to shove my back directly into the sharp metal-encased corner of the open cupboard door directly above my head. Not only did this knock the wind out of me for a brief second, but I then had a 5-inch scrape across my back, a little bit of bleeding, and a shitton of pain. Also, my body’s instant response to this was—no surprise here—to start sweating PROFUSELY. And I emitted one of those awkward sounds that is somewhere between crying and laughing. Now I have an ice pack attached to my back thanks to an ace bandage wrapped around my midriff (so I look cool too).
So again let me pose the question: What is wrong with me? Isn’t there some old wive’s tale about when a girl gets really klutzy it means something? Something related to cycles and the moon and witchcraft or something? I mean, not that I actually believe there’s something supernatural/hormonal happening here but beyond just needing to have a bit better awareness of my surroundings, WHAT THE FUCK!?!
I was hoping the back injury would get me out of work for the afternoon but all it got me was a brief pity party from my boss who then told me to stop whining.