June Renew: Day Nineteen
Caution: Clumsiness Ahead
I never wanted to think of myself as a clumsy person, but it’s starting to prove correct more and more. I’ve already talked about my broken dish fiasco, but now things are getting ramped up to absurd levels. I’m far more cognizant of the fact that what can go wrong, just might go wrong for me. And it’s coming in the form of things slipping from my grasp, or me plummeting to the ground.
It’s annoying to say the least, and it’s happening more and more in front of my friend. I don’t want it to be an endearing sort of trait for me forever, as my paranoia tells me something might actually be wrong cognitively. My family doesn’t seem to have the best track record with that, so it’s something that remains on my mind. But is it actually possible for me to overcome this? Or are the stories of my klutziness too entertaining to miss?
Look Out Below
My friend tells me I’ve always been a little awkward, even as a kid. Not entirely uncoordinated, just inelegant. Which is why he’s not surprised to see me drop item after item in his presence. The other night as he was in the shower and I was rolling out the pizza dough, the rolling pin I had put down moments ago took the opportunity to roll itself right off the counter, slamming to the ground with an ungodly thud. He could hear it from the bathroom, saying “You dropped the rolling pin, didn’t you?” as soon as he came out. And just last night as we were on the phone (he calls me every day when he leaves work), I was putting half the salmon I just cooked into some foil, which somehow fell off my counter and splattered on the floor. “Five second rule!” he exclaimed, as I used my spatula to scrape up the rest. And yes, the five second rule was certainly in effect.
But that’s not all. He’s seen me fall at least twice. The first time was after we hit up a brewery and I proclaimed “I’m a little tipsy” as we walked. As if in a comedy of errors, my legs decided to stop working and I hit the ground, him turning around after hearing the thunk and immediately pulling me up. A few weeks later during another one of our jaunts, my ankle decided to not work as I stepped down some stairs, but I caught myself this time. I had fallen into a deep knee bend before standing up, hearing my patellas crack and strain under the stress, but I got to my feet and walked on. I had channeled my mother right there, who’d catch herself in a similar manner after a slip, and pop up like nothing ever happened.
Only it keeps happening to me. And I wonder what happens on the day it stops being a cutesy character flaw and turns into a serious problem.
The Final Grasp on It
At this point, I feel there is still time to course correct. It’s like if I keep losing weight and keep bettering myself, my mind will be able to connect to all different parts of my body. I won’t lose my grip as often and just have the cognition to keep things steady as she goes.
But it’s going to take a lot of willpower on my part. That means being aware of how I’m walking, especially in the platform shoes I love so very much. I had to get at least three pairs repaired over the straps snapping when my ankle rolls. Thankfully here in New York City the sidewalks aren’t really uneven, but I can’t rely on that in other parts of the country. Heel, toe, heel, toe. I’m not superwoman. I can’t just stomp around expecting my legs to carry all this current girth.
As for my grip? I’m not sure. Sometimes things slip. Maybe overthinking it will only cause more things to fall.