ever since i was young i have been known for my messiness...and clumsiness. i constantly trip over things in my room [the corner of the bed...the blankets cause i don't make my bed], run into corners of walls or desks at work, yesterday i knocked over a full glass of coffee on my desk [i do this probably once a month]. one time at my parents house, i was coming downstairs and my foot slipped and i slid on my butt half way down the stairs. my parents ran to my aid [they always prepare for the worst], my dad leaping on me to stop me from falling down anymore stairs. i look up at them, and my mother just says, "oh ame. that's the third time you've fallen today."
my parents gave me my dad's mum's name for my middle name - Grace. little did they know this would shape me to be ungraceful for my entire life.
i used to dislike my middle name. i guess i thought it was old fashioned. now i love it and use it wherever i can. it's tattooed on my ankle.
i probably had one of my worst episodes of "grace" on Monday. i'm the first one to work in the morning, so i always make coffee for the office. while doing so, i get my breakfast of yogurt & granola and toast. then, i take everything upstairs where i eat it while checking emails and beginning the day's work. about an hour later, i take everything back downstairs [plate, bowl and large mug], wash it, get more coffee and come back up.
Monday was no different, until i took the trip back downstairs. somehow my heel caught on the SECOND STEP and i went down - face first. i was balancing the bowl and plate in my left hand [where the railing is] and a mug 1/2 full of coffee in the right hand. i had no way of stopping myself. i managed hitting my feet on every stair, landing on my right side [thigh/leg/ankle] 1/2 way down the stairs, and flopping face first onto the concrete below. thanks to my 13 years of volleyball and diving experience, i landed on the ground using my left knee, hands and chest as my buffer. my face never hit the ground once.
as i lay sprawled on the ground, i imagined i looked just as a cartoon character "splattered" on the ground would look. co-worker bethany was in the office, on the phone upstairs. i knew she had to of heard my fall, but i couldn't tell if she was talking to the person on the phone or me. i waited. she tells me she called my name several times, and i didn't respond. of course, she thought i was unconcious or something. i heard her run and get to the top of the stairs where she yelled "AMY! are you alright?!" to which i responded, "well, i haven't broken any bones." and i started to move. i looked around, at the nail sticking out of the door 12" from my face. the bowl and plate still intact behind me, and the mug [and coffee] shattered EVERYWHERE around me. bethany ran back to the phone and told the woman, "i'm sorry, but my co-worker just fell down the stairs. i have to go." to which the woman seemed irritated. THANKS, LADY.
needless to say, i managed to survive from this fall with a bruise on my knee and thigh and a small cut on my finger. pretty amazing.
i would say my experience in falling really helped here. i have fallen so many times, i know how to position my body so that it will hurt the least. several time's i've tripped on a cord or rope and just thrown myself on my chest, like i would in playing volleyball. i've avoided skinned knees in this exercise, but managed to attract a lot of attention in doing so.
i'm not sure what to do about my clumsiness. maybe i'm doomed for life. maybe when i TRY harder to NOT be clumsy, it makes it worse. maybe i need to slow down and take my time and i will stop falling all the time.