The Ramblings of a Klutz

It's a Wednesday. I have cuts on my arm and foot, a strained muscle and a yellow/green bruise on my hip. I would have liked to say that these are my victorious scars from a glorious battle to death with some maniac that was twice my size. Sadly, the real story is about a table.

Ever have one of those moments where plans look really nice in your head but when you carry them out it isn't smooth sailing at all? Yeah, well, this was one of those moments.

The new table arrived. A completely ordinary table, made of pine, about waist high and a meter wide. Not very scary. My dad and I lugged the old table down into the garage. Just the normal process of shifting furniture. Then he decided to move the things around in the garage, and I was left alone with the new table. No problem, I thought. I can do this by myself. All I have to do is move the table from spot "A" and up the stairs to "B". Then laugh it off with dad and tell him it was magic that brought it upstairs. It was the perfect plan.

I picked up the table, using my right hip to support it a little. It wasn't too heavy; the rectangular shape was just a bit awkward to handle by myself. I had to carry it at my side other wise it wouldn't fit up the stairs. The table tilted dangerously as soon as I got up the first flight of stairs. WHAM. That was my foot. No worries. Just a bit of epidermis scraped off. Looks like a little blood, but it doesn't hurt too much. On with the journey. Take a small break on the landing. 

So I was there on the landing, enjoying the bit of sunshine that came in through the door when Oh, shoot, wind, doorknob, protect new table, SLAM. That was the arm. No, the door didn't crush my arm. I was lucky. I only got off with the doorknob scraping more epidermis off the side of my arm. Aaaah. Stings. I can hear dad. Okay, hurry up, just a bit more. Push, heave, pull, don't give up on me you lame arm muscles. Maybe I should do more push ups. Adjust the hip bit. Hmm. Wood is hard. =.= Yes, we're there hooray!!!! Just as I shifted the table into place, I banged my head into the shelf above me. My thick skull finally came into some good use.

When my dad finally came up the table was where it should be and I was watching TV. I tried to make the joke about magic, but my dad noticed my new dinosaur cartooned plasters on my arm and foot. He laughed, shook his head, and muttered something about "hopeless case".  So much for the grand plan.

And don't worry, Kristy. I'm on the mend already. Us klutzy people have developed speedy recovery systems over the years to combat the numerous injuries that we unintentionally inflict on ourselves. Besides, the brontosauruses on my foot is smiling at me. That's a good sign. XD

Cheers!
Free Template Blogger collection template Hot Deals SEO