The following are just several pieces of advice I’d like to share so that anyone who reads this might be spared the pain and humiliation I had to suffer.
This goes for anything, really, that requires you to slip your feet through – pants, shorts, even socks. Yesterday morning, when I was getting dressed, the toes of my right foot got caught in the waist band of my briefs. Seriously. I hopped on one foot, grabbed for the wall (which, being flat, doesn’t help much), uttered an expletive, then fell to the floor. My neck, remarkably, did not snap. By merely sitting on the edge of your bed (or chair, even the floor!), you can save yourself the embarrassment of having your other half look at you and say, “Did you have a nice trip?!”
Heavy, metallic objects belong nowhere near the perimeter of your bed.
I like to think I’m careful. Heaven knows I’ve had my fair share of clumsy moments. But clumsy and stupid are two different things, and what transpired next is just stupid. I left my large, block-shaped hand weights next to the trunk at the foot of my bed. Just left them there after I was finished with them. Did I move them later in the day? No. Did I move them before I went to bed? No. Did I slam my foot into them when I woke up in the middle of the night to go pee? Yes, yes I did. Hard. In fact, my big toe is now a lovely shade of purple. I believe the correct color is indigo, but I digress.
Shoes, somehow or another, have a life of their own.
My shoes are magic. Whether my dress shoes for work, or my sneakers for working out, they have powers to disappear and materialize at will. Even better, they do this exceptional trick when I need them the most. It doesn’t happen often, but when it does I spiral into such anger that the idea of throwing our television out the window doesn’t seem so bad. Are they in my backpack from my last outfit change? No. Are they next to the couch where I might have kicked them off in exhaustion? No. Are they inexplicably under the bed in such a neat and tidy position as to force thoughts of ghosts or poltergeists? Yes. Very much so. The same goes for my car keys (on top of the refrigerator? Really?), my lip balm (under the couch?), and my sanity (yet to be found).
In the event any of these inconveniences happen – or have happened – to you, I ask only that you breathe, find your Zen, and make a plan to rectify the problem. Snapped necks, stubbed toes, and haunted shoes are no way to go about having a peaceful existence.
Thank you for your time. 🙂