I have this situation. A non-life threatening situation. A catastrophic annoyance. A hella embarrassing disorder. A life long affliction. Fa life!
I have been hit with a CLUMSY stick. It’s been that way my entire lifespan. I do not just have an ordinary case of the clumsies – I have full blown #WTFclumsyitis. I probably smacked myself in the face and still somehow tripped while laying in the fetal position when I was in my fetus womb.I’m confused! I’m desperately scrutinizing my noggin. I don’t know if this has anything to do with my loathsome, awkward self-awareness. I also don’t know it has anything at all to do with my severely off centered hand/eye coordination. There’s really a lot I don’t know. There are so many possibilities! Is it the way I hold myself? The way I mingle in crowds? The fact that I’m a dingleshit? Listen. I will be standing, and just fall. I will downright fall from an upward position where both feet are firmly planted six feet into the ground. Skilled.
It’s a super blast. I constantly break things, spill shit, or I over or under estimate my reach. My left hand never knows what the right hand is doing. Same for my brain. There is no effect to the cause. I cut myself, spill out my java on my white shirts, and I snort giggle. I sniggle.
I fall up my stairs mostly. Sometimes down. But, mostly up. My kids are so used to hearing “BOOM,” then immediately followed by: “Mommy’s okay!” They don’t need or even want the explanation. It just somehow makes me feel better. Until I fall again.
I can’t even stand while speaking to another human being while simultaneously holding my body in a non-awkward position. I’ll put my hands in my pocket. Move hands to hips. Now hold hands in front. Nope. Hold one hand in front, one on hip. Wait – one hand on hip, one in pocket. So ironic.
Even my words are clumsy; there’s nothing monumental, flawless, regal, impressive or impressive about them. Ha! See what I did there? But, seriously – I’m trying to stay on topic and that’s actually a whole ‘nother story. A much more boring one.
I’ve lost count of the trip and falls. They’re a kimbo. I’m always bruised! Every morning I get to play my favorite game: “Where the HELL did this mammoth bruise come from!” I’m never going to know.
Most of the time I can make fun of myself, with my overly compensating self-deprecation. Because, it is funny. It is. But, there are those times. Those times when I’m trying to impress or I’m trying to be serious and adult. Those are the times when things are getting ready to go to crap. Those are the times where I’m walking casually into the living room, a clear path, clear vision, right on target, mentally prepared, and dude – I just broke my damn hip.