Not just one idiot moment in time

Daddy-O rearranged furniture the other night and moved the coat tree so it's right inside the front door. I knew he did it. I saw him do it. I hung a coat on it. I even took a coat off of it. But when I came home the other night, through that door, I forgot and about "killed" the coat tree because I thought it was some tall man standing there, in the dark. I whacked it with my purse and made "ay-ah!" sounds as I did it. And knocked the coat tree over. And all the coats fell off. And my heart rate about went to 'heart attack' levels. Shit. Scared me to death. And I felt like an idiot. Thank goddess I was home alone. Daddy-O would've laughed himself to death at my faux-karate kid like move.

Another time I felt like an idiot moment: I face planted as I walked into the church for a funeral the other day. I was rushing because I thought I was gonna be late and tripped on the rug and fell flat. Not just to my knees, but all the way down: face and belly right into the carpet, sprawled across the threshold like a beached whale in classy trousers. I jumped up like I was on fire and looked around to see if anyone saw me other than Mac- who was torn between laughing his ass off and making sure I was okay. I think he told me I looked as graceful as a rollerskating giraffe. After he asked me if I was okay. After he chuckled, LOTS! And no one saw other than him.

My other klutzy moment came when Daddy-O and I walked out of the school where he teaches and I sub. I went out a set of doors I've never used. I was looking at him and talking and opened the door and tripped, crow hopped, two stepped and didn't fall, but it was close. Apparently there's a step down as you go out the door. I didn't step down. I'm trying to not crash to the pavement and the first thing I asked was "did anyone see me?" I know I looked like a I was playing a one woman Twister game, in mid air, without the board, alone.

Once this summer when I was working at the ice cream, I was bringing supplies in and out of the store room and walked right into the glass door that I thought was open. It was not; it was firmly closed. And that hurt like a son-of-a-gun, too. And the first thing I did was to see if anyone saw my stupid "parakeet against a picture window" move.

What makes people do that? Why do we always look around to see if anyone saw us be stupid? I think if I was actually hurt I wouldn't care; maybe because I pretend if I was really hurt, no one would laugh at me because they would be sympathetic to my pain. (When I'm sure in reality they're laughing behind my back, but my sub-conscious believes whatever it wants!) I can't be the only person who ever does this, can I? Really, why do I think as I'm falling, preciously tipping toward the ground, flailing away, looking like a seizure in mid air, why is my first thought "who is seeing me look like a fool" rather than "oh shit, I might break my wrist"?

What's even worse about this is that I took about 10 years of dance class. I had 2-3 lessons a week for 10 years and on the stage I was pretty graceful. Turn on music and I could spin and float and looked pretty good. But off the stage and out of the dance studio, without music, back on "normal" everyday surfaces, I was not what you'd call... coordinated. Yes, I could dance, but when walking or running I had 2 left feet. And this was before I ever started my drinking days...

My dad called me "Gracie" as a kid. As in "Way to go, Gracie" as I crashed and careened into another person or a piece of furniture or the floor, tripping over the lint on the rug, or my own 2 feet, or some imaginary pile of bricks that had to be there just a second ago as I would splat down because there was nothing else that could've caused the fall. Apparently there are some things we just don't outgrow. Damn it.

Klutz-erinna,
Maggie