I never considered myself an accident prone person. Mysterious black and blue marks and bruises of unknown origins have never been a part of my daily attire. But things change. As I was opening the safe at work today, I managed to pull the door too far back and my hand got stuck between the handle and the wall for a second. To say that the safe door is light would be the understatement of the year. Half of the time, I need to use both hands just to open it. As I cursed and cradled my hand, my coworker made a point to mention that in her five years at the company, she never once managed to hurt herself at the safe. What can I say? It’s a new talent I guess.
You’d think one accident per day would be enough, but where’s the fun in that? My newfound talent wants to express itself more often it seems. As I was quickly putting away some newly laundered in my bedroom, and feeling rather productive I might add, I leaned down to grab a solitary sock from the floor. (The lone sock mystery continues.) As I was bending down, I managed to smash my forehead into the corner of my dresser. I use the word ‘smash’ because there was actual loud impact. As a quick defense, I should point out that the light in my bedroom was off and it was pretty dark in there. On second thought, I don’t know how much better of a light I’m shining on the situation by pointing out that I was putting away laundry in the dark. Oh well, we can’t all be smart all of the time.
Some blood and a nice-sized bump later, I sit on the couch and wonder about this new accident prone phase I seem to be in. I’m not sure I’m loving it. But that’s the thing with phases. They come and go as they please. They don’t ask for permission and they don’t give us a heads up. Whether it be the two year old tantrum stage (which I fear will continue well beyond two) or the discombobulating of my limbs. In the meantime, I’ll just keep a few extra ice packs in the freezer.