All the women in my family are klutzes. This is something I've lived with my entire life and have grown rather accustomed to. Even my poor niece Hailey, who isn't even two years old yet, is exhibiting this klutzy gene. So, you know, we spill things, we break things, we trip, we bump into walls (especially when rounding corners), we stub toes, and our significant others are often the victims of unintentional injuries from our wonky, uncontrolled elbows or knees or fingernails. Like I said, it's just a given; our lot in life; our curse if you will.
So this morning I was getting ready for work. My routine is to shower, blow dry hair, apply makeup, and get dressed last. I stay in my pajamas throughout this entire process (well except in the shower of course!) and today I was wearing an old pair of pjs that have a very wide leg. Phillip has already given me a warning about these because one of the pant legs will sometimes get caught up on something, like the footstool portion of the recliner, or the curlicue leg of the side table, or sometimes my own foot will get caught in it and trip me up! And that is what happened to me this morning. I was stepping across the bedroom from the bed to my closet to choose my clothes for the day when my foot was caught in my pajama pant leg, tripped me up, and before I knew it I was sailing across the room. I fell to my knees and in trying to catch myself ending up crashing against my ancient five drawer dresser, slamming my right forearm against the very top edge.
Now it's swollen and bruised and ugly. And it hurts. I didn't break anything (arms, fingers, perfume bottles, etc.), thank goodness, but my forearm is now one hell of an ugly sight. I actually had co-workers recoil in horror when they saw it, and of course it's gotten worse as the day has progressed.
Sometimes I wish that there was some sort of pill I could take to control klutziness, like there is to control ADHD or depression.
All you doctors and scientists out there, why don't you get on that for me? Thanks.
Six years and counting.
I'm a bad girlfriend. Yesterday was my and Phillip's sixth anniversary and I completely spaced it! We had even discussed it about a week ago, trying to decide what we were going to do to celebrate since it was coming up so quickly. So what do I do yesterday? Totally blow off my boyfriend!
My mom called in the morning and said she was making my favorite meal (a crock pot dish of creamy chicken and mushrooms over rice) if we wanted to come over for dinner. I call Phillip and when he says he had planned on cooking, I basically say, "Well, can't it wait until tomorrow? My mom's making my favorite!" So he tells me to go and enjoy dinner at my mom's but he will skip it and see me when I get home. He was a little crabby about it but I figured it was because we had just had dinner at my mom's on Halloween and he usually needs more time to pass by between visits to my family's house. So I go to my mom's, enjoy my dinner, play with my niece for a while and then go home.
Phillip seems to be in an okay mood. Then he says casually, "So I'm thinking since we didn't even have dinner together tonight, we should make a whole night of it on Saturday for our anniversary."
OOPS. I felt terrible! I couldn't believe that I had completely forgotten what day it was! He was really cool about it and laughed it off, but I think he was more hurt than he let on.
I know that we are not married. I know that technically it's an "anniversary" not an Anniversary, but every year it is a milestone that we like to acknowledge. We do something a little special and reflect on our progress as a duo and talk about how happy and lucky we are. Because after six years, we are just that: happy and lucky.
So we are going to celebrate on Saturday. We are going to kick it old school by having a great dinner and seeing a movie. And I'll let him pick where we eat and what we see. But he'll check with me first to see if I'm cool with it. And if either the restaurant or the movie doesn't appeal to me, we'll decide together on something else, because that is love. And we are lucky in love.
My mom called in the morning and said she was making my favorite meal (a crock pot dish of creamy chicken and mushrooms over rice) if we wanted to come over for dinner. I call Phillip and when he says he had planned on cooking, I basically say, "Well, can't it wait until tomorrow? My mom's making my favorite!" So he tells me to go and enjoy dinner at my mom's but he will skip it and see me when I get home. He was a little crabby about it but I figured it was because we had just had dinner at my mom's on Halloween and he usually needs more time to pass by between visits to my family's house. So I go to my mom's, enjoy my dinner, play with my niece for a while and then go home.
Phillip seems to be in an okay mood. Then he says casually, "So I'm thinking since we didn't even have dinner together tonight, we should make a whole night of it on Saturday for our anniversary."
OOPS. I felt terrible! I couldn't believe that I had completely forgotten what day it was! He was really cool about it and laughed it off, but I think he was more hurt than he let on.
I know that we are not married. I know that technically it's an "anniversary" not an Anniversary, but every year it is a milestone that we like to acknowledge. We do something a little special and reflect on our progress as a duo and talk about how happy and lucky we are. Because after six years, we are just that: happy and lucky.
So we are going to celebrate on Saturday. We are going to kick it old school by having a great dinner and seeing a movie. And I'll let him pick where we eat and what we see. But he'll check with me first to see if I'm cool with it. And if either the restaurant or the movie doesn't appeal to me, we'll decide together on something else, because that is love. And we are lucky in love.
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