it wasn't even icy
Sep. 5th, 2013 11:59 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
arduinnaPeople you seriously do not want on your super secret kickass ops team: me.
Walking around my car tonight on a clear, dry evening, carrying nothing but a water bottle dangling from one hand and a set of keys, I managed to fall harder than I have in decades, toppling in stages (foot, ankle, knee, other knee, hand, other hand, chest). As I went down, I was marveling both at the fact that I was falling (I'm usually very good at catching my balance when I stumble), and at how it just wasn't stopping; every time I thought I was done, something shifted and down I went a bit more.
Getting up from something like that is fun when your ankles and knees are crap, but I found a way and got back on my feet, gathered up my water bottle and got the rest of my stuff out of the car, went inside, and took inventory, expecting a lot of raw skin.
Verdict: One impressively skinned knee that will probably bruise up like anything over the next few days, and scraped-feeling skin on my palms and other knee that should be fine by tomorrow, because there was no real surface damage. I'm amazed. Even my jeans never tore, so the skinned knee is reasonably clean (and remarkably, never really bled, so the jeans are safe on that score, too).
Meanwhile, if the cool air today wasn't enough of a clue, my cat Hobbes is cluing me in to the approach of fall in his own way. I had a towel over my lap while I ate dinner to protect from crumbs (and from cats who always want my dinner). Hobbes came over and was poking urgently around, so I figured he wanted some of my food. But no - he was frantic to get his head under the towel, then all disappointed when it turned out to be too short to do him any good. I actually had to haul a blanket over to put over my legs, so he could crawl under it and be warm.
(It's not cold. I'm barefoot and in shorts. He's just very blanket-y.)
I'm sure I had a very incisive, fannish post planned out in my head, before I slipped. Quite sure.
Oh, wait, here's something: Ian McKellan and Patrick Stewart in two plays together: No Man's Land and Waiting for Godot, in New York City, from the end of October through the end of January. For those of a theatrical bent!
Walking around my car tonight on a clear, dry evening, carrying nothing but a water bottle dangling from one hand and a set of keys, I managed to fall harder than I have in decades, toppling in stages (foot, ankle, knee, other knee, hand, other hand, chest). As I went down, I was marveling both at the fact that I was falling (I'm usually very good at catching my balance when I stumble), and at how it just wasn't stopping; every time I thought I was done, something shifted and down I went a bit more.
Getting up from something like that is fun when your ankles and knees are crap, but I found a way and got back on my feet, gathered up my water bottle and got the rest of my stuff out of the car, went inside, and took inventory, expecting a lot of raw skin.
Verdict: One impressively skinned knee that will probably bruise up like anything over the next few days, and scraped-feeling skin on my palms and other knee that should be fine by tomorrow, because there was no real surface damage. I'm amazed. Even my jeans never tore, so the skinned knee is reasonably clean (and remarkably, never really bled, so the jeans are safe on that score, too).
Meanwhile, if the cool air today wasn't enough of a clue, my cat Hobbes is cluing me in to the approach of fall in his own way. I had a towel over my lap while I ate dinner to protect from crumbs (and from cats who always want my dinner). Hobbes came over and was poking urgently around, so I figured he wanted some of my food. But no - he was frantic to get his head under the towel, then all disappointed when it turned out to be too short to do him any good. I actually had to haul a blanket over to put over my legs, so he could crawl under it and be warm.
(It's not cold. I'm barefoot and in shorts. He's just very blanket-y.)
I'm sure I had a very incisive, fannish post planned out in my head, before I slipped. Quite sure.
Oh, wait, here's something: Ian McKellan and Patrick Stewart in two plays together: No Man's Land and Waiting for Godot, in New York City, from the end of October through the end of January. For those of a theatrical bent!
