Yesterday, I slipped off the pavement while running for a bus and ended up on my backside in the middle of the road with a great big double decker bus flying towards me. My life flashed before my eyes and then as I staggered to my feet and got off the tarmac just in time, I just felt insanely, incredibly embarrassed.
People were staring for heaven’s sake!
But it really was the icing on the cake of embarrassing moments that happened to me that day. Take my journey to work. I was walking along the pavement when I got distracted by a handbag in the window of LK Bennett, and walked smack bang into a roadworks sign.
Then, during a particularly busy moment at work, I was trying to write something on my notebook while walking across the office, when all of a sudden I realised I’d hit something squishy – the printer man – who was more than a little shocked by the blonde girl stomping all over his feet.
Then, at lunchtime, I misjudged a corner and walked into it. Misjudged a gap between people and bumped into them. Misjudged the stairs and fell up them. Thankfully, I didn’t get as far as falling down them. But then there is always tomorrow.
I hate it when I have days like this. And once I’m on a roll, I’m on a roll. I mean last time I had an episode of extreme clumsiness like this, I dislodged a picture off my wall, sent it flying through the air, knocking over two cups of tea and a glass of water, filling my sock drawer with tepid liquid and dousing all my jewellery, in the process.
It was not fun.
So last night when I got home, I did absolutely nothing. I sat on the sofa, staring at the TV, feet up, lest I should kick something, a blanket to stop my flailing arms from knocking stuff over. I also made sure I had the TV remote to hand and some chocolate too, so if I got peckish, I didn’t have get up and risk hurting myself.
As you can imagine, it was an incredibly tough evening, but it was the only answer…