What's up with today today?
Yesterday, I anticipated this morning with a mixture of glee and purpose. I had big plans for the exercise room/pool/jacuzzi in my complex until I woke up to a GIANT FUCKER LIGHTENING STORM (Damn, Nature, you skerry) and half of the lights in the apartment being off. I could do naught but wait for someone to fix it and then go about my least favorite action and phrase "running errands." Though my day, thusfar, had been a debaucle I went about this loathed task with relative cheer and maintained said cheer up until the very moment that I fell down some stairs and I got to contemplate the damage very clearly as it occurred: HAND!...ASS!...BACK!... uh oh not my.... HEAD! SHIT!
I sat on the ground dazed and laugh crying (I laugh-cry when I hurt myself.. maybe a defense mechanism or perhaps simply a maniacle dedication to slapstick.. most likely the former.)
It was a somewhat big event for me as I am not accustomed to hurting myself without expecting it. I bruise and scrape myself often with general asstardedness but I always more or less expect any repercussions. Walking downstairs is not a particularly daring activity...
or so I thought...
It is strange that I never have accidents when an accident seems a foregone conclusion (i.e. when I lived in Chicago and later Mass. I often went walking and I handled the ice-patches with unaccountable aplomb) and yet when I am walking on wet wooden steps (not a very strange event in Texas) I can't manage it.
Now I'm taking advil to nurse the buzzing pain in my head and the flagellant-esque agony in my back (basically feels and looks like I've been lashed for trying to walk down some steps.)
I can't imagine how it would've been were I older and less gifted at falling properly (years of being a tomboy and doing gymnastics has taught me how to fall with the least likelihood of injury.) I was actually, absurdly, bitter that I had bumped my head at all due to this usually useless acumen (try putting "falls well" on a C.V.) Someone told me that not hitting your head while you're falling down stairs would be practically impossible. Even still, I felt like a D-bag.
In summation, though I am absolutely fine, I didn't like falling down stairs and I wouldn't recommend it.
Yesterday, I anticipated this morning with a mixture of glee and purpose. I had big plans for the exercise room/pool/jacuzzi in my complex until I woke up to a GIANT FUCKER LIGHTENING STORM (Damn, Nature, you skerry) and half of the lights in the apartment being off. I could do naught but wait for someone to fix it and then go about my least favorite action and phrase "running errands." Though my day, thusfar, had been a debaucle I went about this loathed task with relative cheer and maintained said cheer up until the very moment that I fell down some stairs and I got to contemplate the damage very clearly as it occurred: HAND!...ASS!...BACK!... uh oh not my.... HEAD! SHIT!
I sat on the ground dazed and laugh crying (I laugh-cry when I hurt myself.. maybe a defense mechanism or perhaps simply a maniacle dedication to slapstick.. most likely the former.)
It was a somewhat big event for me as I am not accustomed to hurting myself without expecting it. I bruise and scrape myself often with general asstardedness but I always more or less expect any repercussions. Walking downstairs is not a particularly daring activity...
or so I thought...
It is strange that I never have accidents when an accident seems a foregone conclusion (i.e. when I lived in Chicago and later Mass. I often went walking and I handled the ice-patches with unaccountable aplomb) and yet when I am walking on wet wooden steps (not a very strange event in Texas) I can't manage it.
Now I'm taking advil to nurse the buzzing pain in my head and the flagellant-esque agony in my back (basically feels and looks like I've been lashed for trying to walk down some steps.)
I can't imagine how it would've been were I older and less gifted at falling properly (years of being a tomboy and doing gymnastics has taught me how to fall with the least likelihood of injury.) I was actually, absurdly, bitter that I had bumped my head at all due to this usually useless acumen (try putting "falls well" on a C.V.) Someone told me that not hitting your head while you're falling down stairs would be practically impossible. Even still, I felt like a D-bag.
In summation, though I am absolutely fine, I didn't like falling down stairs and I wouldn't recommend it.