Slippin' on Some Slipperz

December 12, 2010

So first thing this morning I’m walking down stairs and I slip. Our stairs are metal and covered with grip tape. The same kind you put on skateboards. The exact same kind. Two of the steps don’t have any grip tape. We’ve been meaning to fix that for – oh, a couple of years.  It’s usually not a problem. But, today I was wearing furry slippers and that bare metal step was covered in butter. No. No, it wasn’t. But it felt like it. It was bound to happen. I’ve traveled these metal stairs both sober and drunk many times over the last 4 years and never took a spill until today.  No damage. Luckily, the Libra gift of balance evens out my clumsiness with my quick, life-saving reflexes. As fast as my legs flew out from under me – my left had gripped the rail and my right forearm landed on a step – holding my back 1 inch from the corner of the step.

I froze in that position for a long time. Reason 1: I was letting my brain catch up to reality that I was alive, not broken and paralyzed and not bleeding to death from the head. Reason 2: I was staring down at Corban on the couch -  playing some brick-breaking game on his phone – waiting for him to LOOK UP WITH CONCERN!!

He did. He looked up. But not right away. This was not a silent fall. My arm and two feet slammed down on those steps pretty hard. Right above his head. Maybe he thought I dropped a basket of laundry. Hm. OR MAYBE HIS WIFE ALMOST DIED ON THE STAIRS.

I’m fine, so I got over it.

But then I did it again a few hours later. I really did. I fell twice. Second fall blame goes to Stubbs. He likes to cut me off while walking up the stairs. Especially if I’m off-balance because I’m holding multiple bags of groceries. Jerk always has to be first. Everyone in this house is an asshole today.

Then I spent all day making food for the week. We got a cool, late wedding gift from his aunt. It’s a buffet style set of 3 crock pots. You can slow cook three separate entrées at once. Add my regular crock pot to that and that makes FOUR. So I research FOUR new recipes to make. The idea is that I wont have to cook the rest of the week. Viola, right? NO. Because they all sucked! All of them. They all turned out tasting terrible! Now I have a fridge FULL of disgusting food to eat all week. Yayyyy.

I’m also afraid of my house and my dog.

Who has two middle fingers and hates December 12th?

Picture it.

Bye.