Wednesday, July 25, 2007
Mrs. Butterfingers
My motor skills have gone on vacation this week. If you've ever dropped your keys repeatedly like any other Special Needs sort-of person, you know there's nothing you can do about it. You can swear, which I readily do while trying to keep a hold of my keys, and that's about it.
So far this week I've scraped my car into the side of the house; dragged the side of my knee into the corner of the coffee table; spilled a soda all over a shirt I wore for jury duty; walked into the refrigerator; dropped flour on the floor; almost locked myself out of my car; almost dropped my laptop onto the floor; and tripped over my laptop's AC cable, causing a big commotion that disturbed the cats and resulted in Ninja biting me on the toe after I sat back down to get my bearings.
Now, lest you think I'm suffering from dozens of mini strokes every other hour, this is a typical symptom of my PMS. Lots of women experience the same sort of thing. Just another example of how hormones can be evil and wrong.
Thankfully, my car's rear view mirror flipped back into the correct position, though it's not entirely stable in its socket and now sports daring red racing stripes on the side. My knee and shoulder are fine after bumping into furniture, and somehow I put my keys on top of my car at the courthouse when I was fumbling to get my bag, jacket and book out of the car when the door decided to close itself, locked.
The shirt I wore for jury duty was one of those nice, polyester/no-iron deelies that repels liquids, so I caught a huge break there. That doesn't help the fact that the soda I had, which was supposed to be a medium, was so freaking huge it wouldn't fit in the cup holder.
And maybe subconsciously I tried to drop my laptop and whip it off the table by tripping on the cord because I just bought a new one and I know it won't be too much longer that I'll have to wait 5 minutes for it to start up, or continually repair my wireless connection to get online, or wait for the cursor to return when typing an email and the words stop appearing because it's checking mail and can't do both at the same time.
But I guess if my period doesn't come in the next week or so it's time to get a crash helmet.
Labels:
Judy Miller,
klutzy,
PMS
2 comments:
There are two types of women who I find incredibly endearing: the first, those (like yourself) who are amazingly capable and together and competent, who occasionally become complete and total klutzes and create chaos to rival episodes of "I Love Lucy."
The others are gorgeous gals who have hilariously dorky laughs (a la "Har-HAR-har-harrrr-SNORT!")
It's probably why I married She Who Must Be Obeyed. I guess I just love contrasts. So embrace your klutziness, sweety, and work on that laugh.
I've been known to snort, but usually only after some quantity of liquor, as I worked for years to keep the snort suppressed...
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