Um, so I fell down the stairs again. I think this is the fourth, maybe the fifth time. And I feel like an idiot. But in all fairness the carpet is really slippery. Plus, there's always an extra factor that just pushes me over the edge. Like on a couple of the other occasions I had just put lotion on my feet. Or I had on very slick shoes, as was the case last night. I'd kind of skidded a little on the tiles at work so I knew my shoes were slick already.
I gouged a nice hole in my left knee that, once it scars over, should nicely complement the scar from skidding in some gravel while racing my friend Randy on my bike when I was 7. I also ripped my last pair of hose. And tore a nail. Oh the humanity!
One issue that I have with the stairs, besides the fact that they are dangerously slippery, is that they only seem to trip me up when one of my roommates is home, often standing at the top of the stairs or nearby for maximum auditory and visual impact. I would just like to note that I go up and down those stairs at least 10 times a day with no mishaps. When I was home all day in September, I went up and down probably 50 times a day. See, the kitchen and the front door are upstairs so if I need to leave or get something to eat or drink, or just feel like being social with my roommates (on the off chance that we're home at the same time), I have to navigate the stairs. So 4 or 5 stumbles down an incredibly dangerous and slippery staircase out of 3 months of living in the apartment really isn't that bad. Right?
4 comments:
Martha again. I fall down (and even UP) the stairs regularly. I'm convinced that this is one of two reasons. A. I grew up in Arizona where we just don't usually HAVE stairs and must not have gotten sufficient stairtime as a baby. Pathetic excuse, I know. Or B. I just get in an awful hurry and go too fast and slip on the edge, tumble down on my butt, and usually hit an elbow or something. I once did this is Portugal on marble stairs in my socks (bright move, I know, but the marble floors were cold-- and before you think I lived in a museum, marble is very common in Portugal)... that was the worst one EVER. Thanks again for the call, love talking with you.
Yes, it's the Arizona thing. I too lived in AZ, in a ranch house with no stairs...I fall all the time now that I live in a house with stairs. My husband thinks it's comical when I fall, or walk into walls.
As much as I'd love to seize onto this explanation because it makes me look much less stupid, I actually grew up in a two story house in Arizona. From ages 7-17. I don't really remember falling down the stairs that much when I was little though. I do remember wrapping myself in a blanket and sliding down the carpeted stairs for fun. I also remember swinging on the railings and sailing over up to 8 steps when my parents weren't home (shhh, don't tell them).
So, is eight steps your personal best? Well that explains the cracked plaster on the lintel at the bottom of the stairs!
I assume you were wearing your Wonder Woman Underoos when performing these feats of daring-do!
Watch your step. Remember what I always say, "Gravity's a drag!"
T-K
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