Grace is not a word often used to describe me. And with lots of good reasons. Here’s one of them:
Yesterday, I fell off the train.
Wearing 4-inch heel knee high boots.
And a skirt.
I was on my way to work and as I stepped off the E-line, I some how managed to lose my balance and down I went! In front of a rush hour train full of people. Brilliant, right? I’m nearly certain I didn’t flash anyone, but I think either way, I’m definitely much happier being blissfully ignorant.
Now my ankle is a little sore, but I’ve managed to hobble my way to and from work the past couple days, so the only thing really hurt here is my pride. Yesterday was pretty miserable at work though – all I had to wear for shoes were those same deadly boots!
And of course, I now have a scrape/bruise on my left knee which perfectly matches the scar on my right knee from a few weeks ago when I decided it would be a good idea to shave at 2AM (Note to self: NEVER, EVER, do that again!).
But the best part is, this morning, as I was getting off the same E-line train, a woman who just moments earlier was saying to her friend how she volunteers for the BSO, almost pushed me off the train! I was clearly limping as I tried to exit and she just shoved right by me! Don’t people know you shouldn’t push the lame and injured? It’s just plain old rude! And that makes me feel all warm and fuzzy about the volunteer work force at my organization.