For a tomboy who can play sports with (sometimes) amazing accuracy, skill, and agility, it completely baffles me (as well as others) why I am as clumsy as I am. I walk into walls, I trip on air, I have bruises on a regular basis that I can never explain, and I no matter how hard I try, it takes at least three attempts to empty my dishwasher because I drop something every. Single. Time.
I wonder why I allow myself out in public without being completely wrapped in bubble wrap and/or protective head and eye gear. I tend to do the impossible; injure myself when no one or anything is around and there really wasn’t any reason WHY I should have injured myself at all.
Case in point: One morning I decided to experiment a little with my hair. I have pretty long hair that I generally just tie up in a bun or braid (I’m lazy) so it’s a big deal when I try something different. I just lack any kind of effort in the morning; the public should really just be grateful when my socks match.
But on this particular day I decided I would try taming my long locks into some loose curls. Truthfully, it looked pretty awesome (if I do say so myself). But here’s a tip for all you lazy ladies who may or may not have a burst of inspiration one morning: Check the weather before you decided to do something cool with your hair. On this day, it was raining. And if you aren’t familiar with long, blonde, curly hair, rainy weather is our nemesis.
I have a garage, so getting to the driver’s door on my car is never a problem. However, it DOES cause me problems when I drop my son off at daycare. They don’t have a covered area. I managed to get the little man indoors without too much trouble (ie: rained on), but it was the mad dash back to the car that was my undoing. Because when your hair looks fucking awesome, you run in the rain to save it. It made sense at the time.
Here’s another tip: When opening your vehicles door, keep your head up. I ran from the daycare, and I opened the door quickly. And I knocked myself out.
You can’t make this shit up, people.
The weird part (as if anything could be any weirder than this) was my first thought when I came too, seconds later, was “Who hit me?” Me, Apparently.
True story. I slammed that door square into my forehead so hard that I knocked myself out. I KNOCKED MYSELF OUT. I can’t even type that sentence without feeling like an idiot. It’s been quite a while since the incident, but every so often when I am rubbing my temples or scratching my forehead, I can feel that soft, sore spot and I think to myself:
Who sells Bubble wrap at a discount?