I am SUCH an idiot.
Last night when I got home from work I was walking across the living room to get something out of the kitchen, when BOOM! I tripped over the rocker on the rocking chair (that’s only been in that spot for, like, months) and kind of went airborne into the kitchen.
I cursed and hopped around clutching my ankle, and then I looked into the living room, where tallgirlsam was sitting, with her face doing those contortions that mean I really hope you aren’t hurt but holy shit that was funny, I wish I could laugh. So I was like “go ahead. laugh.” and she cracked up for like ten minutes.
Then we examined the large and growing scrapy-bumpy thing on my left ankle.
So now it’s all messed up. Ow.
I’m such a clumsy freak. I swear I could probably give stumblebee a run for her money.
Last year my Injury of the Summer occurred when I got up from the computer desk too fast and caught my thigh on the exposed metal keyboard track. So then I was limping around for a couple of weeks with a huge bandage on my thigh, and I kept having to explain the jackass way in which I acquired that particular injury. I finally made up a story about how I dove into a quarry to save a drowning child and her kitten, and bumped my leg on some rock on the way down.
I’m pretty sure they believed me. That’s a perfectly plausible story, right?
In the past, my major injuries have all come about due to completely ridiculous circumstances.
Exhibit A: Sophomore year, college.
I slipped on the porch stairs in flip-flops on a rainy night and bruised the living hell out of my hip. Remember in the movie A League of Their Own, when that one chick got this massive bruise sliding into a base? Yeah, my hip looked a bit like that. And there’s actually still an indentation in my hip from hitting the stair.
Exhibit B: Freshman year, college.
I sprained my back and had to go to the emergency room once. How? Running to work.
Yeah, I don’t know either.
Exhibit C: Elementary school.
The first time I ever had to get stitches. What did I do, you ask?
I ran face-first into a spring-mounted tennis gate and cut my head open. First of all, I didn’t know it was spring-mounted. Second, we were playing tag and I was It, so I was in hot pursuit of everyone else. They ran through the gate, I was so intent on catching them that I didn’t bother to stick my hands out as I headed for the gate.
Exhibit D: Primary school.
Now I blame barybabe somewhat for this one. We were doing flips off the back of the couch, one at a time. One time, Barybabe and I were going over at the same time and flipped the couch over.
Onto my face.
Pinning my lip to the ground.
I was really pissed about this one, because I had to eat through a straw for a while, and also because I missed the Girl Scout party and there was supposed to be birthday cake because it was some kind of Girl Scout Anniversary.
I’m still pretty bitter about the cake.
So yeah, I’m a klutz. My current injury is only the latest in a long string of dumbass incidents.