All the women in my family are klutzes. This is something I've lived with my entire life and have grown rather accustomed to. Even my poor niece Hailey, who isn't even two years old yet, is exhibiting this klutzy gene. So, you know, we spill things, we break things, we trip, we bump into walls (especially when rounding corners), we stub toes, and our significant others are often the victims of unintentional injuries from our wonky, uncontrolled elbows or knees or fingernails. Like I said, it's just a given; our lot in life; our curse if you will.
So this morning I was getting ready for work. My routine is to shower, blow dry hair, apply makeup, and get dressed last. I stay in my pajamas throughout this entire process (well except in the shower of course!) and today I was wearing an old pair of pjs that have a very wide leg. Phillip has already given me a warning about these because one of the pant legs will sometimes get caught up on something, like the footstool portion of the recliner, or the curlicue leg of the side table, or sometimes my own foot will get caught in it and trip me up! And that is what happened to me this morning. I was stepping across the bedroom from the bed to my closet to choose my clothes for the day when my foot was caught in my pajama pant leg, tripped me up, and before I knew it I was sailing across the room. I fell to my knees and in trying to catch myself ending up crashing against my ancient five drawer dresser, slamming my right forearm against the very top edge.
Now it's swollen and bruised and ugly. And it hurts. I didn't break anything (arms, fingers, perfume bottles, etc.), thank goodness, but my forearm is now one hell of an ugly sight. I actually had co-workers recoil in horror when they saw it, and of course it's gotten worse as the day has progressed.
Sometimes I wish that there was some sort of pill I could take to control klutziness, like there is to control ADHD or depression.
All you doctors and scientists out there, why don't you get on that for me? Thanks.