I have Klutz bred into my genes. My father and brother are both sure-footed avid outdoorsmen. They fish and hunt and most recently do some mountain biking. My mother however can trip on an “air pocket” on even, paved ground and unfortunately I have her genes. Let’s not even start about walking on uneven ground.
Anyway, last week was a particularly bad week for the non-gracefulness that is me. My mom was sure I was on some sort of self-destruct path. It started with a simple walk down the hallway at work. I whacked my arm so hard into the door jam that it literally ached for hours. I called my mother an hour after I did it and asked her how do you know if you have broken a bone. It hurt that bad. You would think that with it hurting that badly (I have a fairly high pain tolerance) that I would have at least a bruise. Not even a mark.
Then last week I was walking into work with one of the techs. We are just walking down the hall and talking when I trip over nothing and go flying down the hall. Now picture in your head me carrying my big pink and brown tote bag and I start to trip and my fall is broken by a lovely rolling table that is smack in the middle of our hall. Because of the force I hit the table and because the table has casters (wheels) – I end up ON the table belly down flying down the hall on the rolly-table heading towards the back of a gray leather couch. Now on the other side of the gray leather couch is a gorgeous frosted glass coffee table. If the tech hadn’t jumped in between the rolling table and the couch and stopped me from my wild ride down the hall I probably would have ended up hitting the couch sliding off the table over the back of the couch and right into that lovely frosted glass coffee table. I called it my flying walinda act. My mom called it table surfing. Whatever you call it, I was MORTIFIED. FREAKING MORTIFIED. It was definitely worse than the time that I was walking down the stairs in my building two buildings ago and ended up tripping and falling down half a flight of stairs. Yeah. I told you I was a klutz. I just hope my nephew has graceful genes.