I take clutziness to a whole new level

I am and have always been a clutz. Three years ago I broke my toe while I was sitting down. A few months ago, I dropped the heavy transformer that helps power my pump onto the top of my foot. I walk into things every day and I have bruises all over my shins and knees to prove it. Then just yesterday, while I was stubbornly moving my computer around in my office, I dropped an external hard drive onto the top of that same foot. Ouch. I had a feeling this was a doozy, but I'm stubborn, so I only put ice on it for a short while and hurriedly got back to getting things done, which seems to have been my motto this week. I have been going non-stop every morning after Keith takes Cole to day care. I've literally been running around like a mad woman straightening up the house and then moving to my office where I have been slowly but surely tackling my desks. Before dropping the hard drive onto the top of my foot, I had managed to successfully empty the giganto desk in my room and switch it with the much more modest wooden desk. Now, all Keith has to do is take the giganto desk apart and move it out of our office. I'm going to list it on craigslist today and hopefully we won't have to store it in our garage for too long.

But back to my foot. So I walk on it all afternoon. It hurts a little, sure, but it doesn't seem to be too bad. So I'm not worried.  Fast forward to 5:45 when I'm feeding Cole and suddenly it hits me like a ton of bricks (or a ton of hard drives). The pain. And I can barely move my foot. And I still have to give Cole a bath, put him into his pajamas, and feed him. (Keith was doing a maternity shoot in Hyde Park). Somehow I manage to hobble my way through all of these chores. Of course through most of them I had to hold Cole, which made it so much more difficult. I even had to wrestle the bottle from his grasp as I hobbled back to his nursery. Thankfully he went down without a fight, and I proceeded into the living room at about the same time that Keith came home. It was here that my breakdown began. I started to realize that it could be hurting so bad because I could have fractured it somehow. There are, after all, 26 bones in the human foot. So, it was possible that dropping a hard drive on top of at least a third of them could have broken one. I was devastated. Here I am about to spend the summer with my son, and I can't walk!

So I threw myself a pity party and cried inconsolably for maybe 10 minutes. None of Keith's "pull yourself together" or "take an advil" worked in making me feel better. I refused the advil, and I only became angry with him - but only because I was so angry with myself for being so clutzy! I mean what possessed me to move my computer tower with the hard drive sitting atop it? Absentmindedness+ cliutziness = accident prone.

But we can't change the past, can we? And life is 10 percent what happens to you and 90 percent how you react to it, right?  So, my piss poor reaction just netted me an angry husband and no pity. Finally, I gave in and took the advil. Afterwards, I called my neighbor and she loaned me a pair of her crutches and said she'd take me to the hospital if I wanted to go. I decided against it and I am feeling a bit better today. However, because I want to err on the side of caution, I  am going to the podiatrist today for an X-Ray.

I bet I have all of you beat in the clutz department. Am I right, or am I right?


I'll leave you with this parting shot...