Not My Week

I don’t know what I did to piss off the universe.  I fell again today – that’s the second time in just over a week.  The first time I don’t reckon for much.  As I said in my last post, Berkeley’s sidewalks are notorious for (a) no streetlights and (b) no maintenance since 1972 or so.  (Maybe longer.)  I tripped on a bad patch under a big dark tree, and that’s all there was to it, except the huge purple bruise on my right knee.

This time, though, I was in my own house.  OK, maybe I should have poured my tea and then carried it into the dining room, instead of pouring it while I walked in.  I caught my foot on something (the kitchen trash can, I think) and went off-balance, and my hands were full of ceramics holding hot water, and I couldn’t catch myself.  I landed on my right knee (again, but not so hard), plus my right elbow, and something gave me a fat lip, I don’t know what.   Amazingly, neither the teapot nor the teacup broke, in fact they’re in better shape than I am.

This could have been worse.  Nothing is broken, I’m no worse than sore and stiff; I didn’t hit my head.  But it’s disturbing.  It makes me feel shaky and weak.  I meant to go to the gym today to work out, and now I’m not going, and that’s 2 weeks I’ve missed because of falls.  Grump.

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