So we all know I'm not the most graceful person in the world. I concentrate really hard on not falling down when I walk home from school, I can't open my car door with my left hand, I get mystery bruises on a consistent basis, and I strategically place the condiments in relatively spill-proof spots at work. This last effort is one I attend to valiantly, but it is, alas, sometimes in vain. Aka, my boss told me a few months ago that he tries to guess what I will spill every day, and it amuses him. " Really, I look forward to seeing what you'll spill every morning!" Outstanding.
While these incidents are generally embarrassing and problematic, they are very seldom painful in any lasting way. I just chalk it up to quirks and wobble on. Bruises schmooses, you know? But lately, I've been burning myself a lot. Last week I was making some girl a chocolate chip pancake at work, and I went to flick a burning piece of chocolate off the spatula into the trash, except that it stuck to my glove and I spent the rest of my shift fake smiling and pressing my newly blistered thumb down on the frosty edges of the refrigerator table. And then I burned my neck with a straightener yesterday when I tripped over the cord. And about half an hour ago, I poured boiling water on my fingers.
This apparent inability to avoid injury on such basic levels frustrates the crap out of me! I have a job, and a car, and I pay rent, and go to school, and take road trips cause I feel like it, and I am a big kid, dang it! But I don't know if there is much hope for me getting much further than that when I can't master things like 'move your freaking hand out of the way when you drain the boiling liquid off your noodles!'
I just keep telling myself that there is hope as long as I can still tango. In the meantime, I just have to stock up on ice packs and bandaids, and hope the rest of the world thinks it is endearing, just like Scott does when I hit myself in the face with a stream of ranch dressing from a squeeze bottle.