the start of my week ended with a bang…

I am a graceful person. Really graceful. You know that poem Tuesday’s Child? Yeah. I was born on a Tuesday, that’s how graceful I am. I once hiked up a mountain in high heels and a dress for a friend’s wedding ceremony and when I reached the top not a strand of hair was out-of-place and I didn’t stumble once. Cartwheels on concrete? No problem. Monkey bars? Piece of cake. Walking and texting? I can totally do that! I shouldn’t but I sometimes do. Which I shouldn’t. Which is beside the point. The point is that I am graceful so much of the time.

Except for most of the time when I am totally not.

As a result of this sometimes mostly not being graceful I’ve been known to damage myself in some of the dumbest ways. Which brings me to our current issue. The problem at hand.

My tongue hurts.

The tip of my tongue to be exact. I tried to take a picture to show you but it really didn’t turn out. It pretty much just looks like a tongue. But last night when I was unloading the dishwasher I decided I needed a glass of water. And it was super hot so of course I needed some ice. So I pulled a pint glass out of the dishwasher and pulled open the freezer to get some ice. Of course the ice-cube trays needed to be cracked so I emptied them into the ice bucket and one cube fell on the floor.

This is the critical point where things could have gone very wrong. The ice-cube kind of slid under the open front of the dishwasher. So I stopped. I was aware that there was a right way to go about this. Leaving that dishwasher open and getting down on my knees to fish underneath if would have been a bad idea. I stopped myself. I carefully reached down and pulled the dishwasher front up and closed it. I put the ice bucket back into the freezer and then turned to pick up the fallen ice-cube.

And BAM! I smacked my forehead right into the dishwasher door which was falling open because apparently I didn’t close it all the way. Startled by the searing pain in my head I stumbled backward into the counter behind me and leaned against it. Depending on it to keep me upright should a black sucking void of unconsciousness take me.

 

Did I mention that, aside from being super graceful I am totally not prone to over-reaction? Maybe I shouldn’t have closed the fucking dishwasher.

When I realized I hadn’t been knocked unconscious, wasn’t bleeding from my head, and hadn’t, despite my best effort, bitten off my tongue I picked up the ice cube and tossed it into the cats’ water dish a few feet away.

So sitting here this evening with a sore tongue I am acutely aware of its cause. But I’m also aware that it wasn’t even remotely the worst thing that has happened so far this week.

Let’s all hope that Wednesday is remarkably more kind than yesterday and today, shall we?

 

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