Sometimes the simplest of activities prove to be too hard for me. Like walking, for example. As I walked home from work this evening, I did what I normally do. Turn on my ipod and zone out until I get home. It’s the only “me” time I truly look forward to every day. There’s something about the nighttime that makes it so peaceful. Or maybe it’s the fact that work is over.
But tonight was different. There I was, one step I was jamming to John Legend, and the next, I was eating pavement in front of an audience of 7 construction workers and an old lady. I’m not sure how it happened but I flat out ate it. Probably about an 8 on a scale of 1 to I would have to be you. I know my boots have horrible treads, as in no tread, but I just like the way they clip clop when I walk. I sound like a lady which I most certainly am not. I must have slipped on a patch of slippery pavement (?) and down I went, taking a knee, if you will. It was almost graceful. I say almost because nothing I do is graceful. I am like a baby that doesn’t know that my arms and legs are attached so I wobble around just getting used to everything flopping around. Watch me dance. I dare you. After I “bowed to Park Avenue” I stood up and continued walking, not looking around or down to see if anyone saw or if I was bleeding. The construction workers stare at me as I pass, but the old woman stops and asks if I’m okay. I stop myself from yelling “SHOULDA BEEN YOU!!!!” and say “yes, I’m fine, thank you” and continue on my way. A block later, I slickly check my knee for a wound, but nothing!
When I get home and change, I realize that in fact, there IS a large slightly bloody scrap on my knee, yet my leggings remain fully intact. They are leggings made of steel! JAP armor.
Tonight’s festivities further remind me that I am only human and I should buy bigger band-aids.