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December 03, 2003 - 4:55 p.m. Those dear readers who know me personally will attest to my innate gracefulness. I am poised and gracious, a paragon of femininity and charm. Anyone buying?? (crickets chirping) No? Ok, the truth is I am a complete and utter spaz. I�m the girl that gestures a little too broadly and ends up knocking things and people to the ground. I trip over things that aren�t there, run into walls and doors (they jump out at me really), if there is anything sharp at shin level feel sure that I will be drawn to it like buzzards to a gut truck (Heh). I�ve broken toes because I can�t seem to walk without stubbing them on something. I have been yanked across dancefloors and landed on my face (Super Vague, remember that one??). I constantly have unidentified bruises peppering my legs and forearms. Suffice it to say I was probably in the bathroom when there were passing out the coordination. What�s the point of this you ask? Well, the other day Paint Monkey and I were going downstairs to get a drink. We do this every day. We were heading down the spiral staircase, which I�ve walked down probably 3 times a day for the last 3 years. Now the Museum has these floors that are made out of fossilized stone; translation they are very hard and when buffed to a high shine very slippery. On this day I wish I could say they had just buffed the floors, but I don�t think they had. I have only myself to blame. So we�re walking down the stairs, chatting away and I guess my foot wasn�t completely centered on the step. The ball of my foot was a little over the edge and because I was wearing dress shoes the soles are hard and a little slick. Picture it: my foot slips off the front of the step, my heel catches on the top of the step as the toe of my shoe acts as a brake on the step below. I hover there, I windmill my arms, grab for the railing and, wait for it� go down face first onto the staircase. Paint Monkey is scrambling trying to catch me before I fall and, as I�m falling in stages, my shoes and arms and knees and elbows are making a terrible racket wacking into the fossil floors as I plunge to my doom. I thought Paint Monkey was going to have a heart attack since a true fall from that height on those floors could really do some damage, but I guess it�s true what they say about God looking out for babies, drunks, and total klutzes, as I survived to trip another day. Of course then follows the embarrassment, the complete mortification, here I am, Museum professional blah blah blah taking a digger (let me just say it was loud and noise really carries) in the middle of the Museum. To add insult to injury once I get up I look to the level above us and one of our volunteers and two of our security guards looking over the edge of the balcony in utter horror at what has just happened. I try to be cool and play it off, �No, no I�m fine, just lost my footing there. Wow, those stairs are really slippery I should be more careful. Huh heh� So now I�ve got matching bruises on my knees and I think I pulled every muscle in my right arm trying to catch myself, but at least I�m ok. I mean, I had to clutch the remaining shreds of my dignity around me, but I�ll be fine. I did think later that it was pretty funny, especially since I�ve only got a week left here and wouldn�t it be amusing if they had to pay me workman�s comp �cause I�m a freak? � Wondering:What the hell is wrong with me?!??!?
Doing:Sitting very still, trying not to move.
Wishing:6 days left...weeeee!
Travel back in time True Art - June 21, 2004
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