I didn't think it was possible to be any more of a klutz, and then along came four hours ago.
I was walking to the car when my feet decided they didn't feel like functioning any more. I tripped over the curb, fell forward and broke my fall with the palms of my hands. Scraped and bleeding, I could feel my left arm begin to spasm and shake and the only reaction I could muster was complete and total hysteria. Yes, laughter.
Right now, my arm fucking kills. My shoulder is so tender, I can barely stand to touch it and when I try to lift my arm, it trembles. Whatever ligaments were beginning to heal from last week's fall are all torn up again. So what am I doing? Typing on a computer, doing laundry and not wearing my arm sling.
When my mother hears about this, I'm certain she'll be able to quote some television show about people losing their balance and falling frequently. She'll try to talk me into going for an MRI or CAT scan, and I'll try to convince her that I'm really just very uncoordinated when it comes to walking in shoes that are made for, well, walking.
From now on, I'm not leaving the house in shoes with less than a two inch heel.
On a more pleasant note, here's me and Tony with our new friend, Clay Aiken.
