In a continuation from yesterday's spontaneity blog, I have a confession to make: Sometimes I am moving so fast and so furiously that I have no idea what I'm actually doing.
For example, a couple of weeks ago, I was in the water at the beach. The waves were not very big and I wasn't in very far, but I still managed to get knocked down when I accidentally wedged my foot under a rock. Somehow, I emerged with a cut hand. I don't know how or why; my hand wasn't even involved in the accidental dunking.
And then there was the incident with the grill. I was moving the grill back into its normal spot, about six inches from where I had moved it, and I cut the back of my leg open on the stone stairs. I don't quite know how or why that happened because I was actually going forward with good momentum at the time. I doubt the stairs jumped out and attacked me, so it has to be all my fault.
Well, tonight it happens again. I meet friends for a drink. This is all very spontaneous. I'm considering showering and going to bed early when I receive a text: Meet us for a drink. Well, sure. Why not, right? It's a small but crowded bar, and I spend a lot of the time standing, but no one is crowding me or anything. Then, I grab a nice tall bar chair, into which I climb without incident; I don't fall down or get my leg caught in the spindles or anything. After one drink, we leave the bar and walk to our separate cars, parked right there out front in the street. I don't have to climb through thickets or thorns or anything; it's the sidewalk, the street, and my car. When I get home, I pull into my driveway, walk about twenty feet to my door, and go inside.
Somehow, some way, please don't ask me how, I have managed to cut a toe wide open. Yes, I am bleeding rather profusely from an injury I've no idea has even occurred.
Judging from the fact that I don't have blood on my sandal nor on the bottom of my jeans, this accident must have happened between the car and the front door. Did I catch my foot on the stone steps? Is the property attacking me yet again?
Honestly, because honesty is the best policy, I've been a bit of a klutz my entire life. I've fallen off bikes, roller skates, and swing sets. I cut my foot almost in half on the top of a boat mast (a special trick, I assure you). I've broken my nose no less than four times, once from an ice ball thrown by teenagers at the bus stop. Usually, though, I own the scrapes and scars. Lately, though ... lately it seems like my body is just spontaneously self-destructing.
Oh, well. Old age, I suppose. It is a lovely evening, and I have a wonderful time. How do I know? I've got the battle scar to prove it. Just remember if you invite me out in the future, a tourniquet may be required.
