Just call me Grace. Everyone else does.
Having a tough day? Need a little laugh (at my expense) to make you feel better about yourself? Well, today’s your lucky day…
But first, a little background information. (Which really isn’t necessary if you know me.)
I’m not what you would call graceful. Clumsy doesn’t even begin to describe it. I’m accident-prone. A walking hazard to myself. My arms and legs are a collage of various bruises — an assortment of blue and purple splotches reminding me of my never-ending battle to simply function as a coordinated human being. I spill stuff on a regular basis. (My boss bought me a jumbo pack of straws to keep at my desk. Seriously. I use them every day.) I trip over invisible obstacles. (Derek said I can’t walk from one end of the porch to the other without falling.) It’s really bad and it’s become a running joke with everyone who spends any amount of time with me. Every time I display my tremendously low-level motor skills, Derek says, “There ya go, Grace.” He swears that he’s buying me a suit of bubble wrap and a helmet for my birthday.
Now that you know all of that, let’s get back to the story.
In the summer, my bedroom stays about 10 degrees warmer than the rest of the house. Since I can’t sleep when I’m even the slightest bit hot, I keep my ceiling fan and floor fan on high and usually wind up kicking the covers off at some point early in the night. In an attempt to help, Derek suggested that I sleep with my bedroom door open, so more cool air would circulate through the room (and maybe I wouldn’t complain so much). I tried explaining to him that I ALWAYS sleep with my door closed. (‘Cause, you know… I live alone and that extra two inches of wood is really going to keep a mass murderer/serial rapist out of my room, should one come to town and break into my house.) But despite my irrational fears of things that go bump in the night, I agreed to give it a shot.
So, I crawled into bed with the door open and proceeded to fall asleep. THEN, like I do every night, I woke up around 1:30 to go to the bathroom… here’s where the story gets good. Okay, check out the diagram below:
See how very little room exists between the side of the bed and the bedroom door? Keep that in mind.
As I was saying, around 1:30 I stumbled out of bed and wandered across the room to the bathroom. I didn’t turn on any lights because, duh… I walk the same path every night, right? And as usual, I made it to the bathroom just fine. When I finished my business, I sleepily stumbled (with my head down and eyes closed) out of the bathroom, in the general direction of my bed. I was about halfway there, and already anticipating my soft pillow, when suddenly….BAM! Something hard hit me square on the brow bone. I saw little flecks of white light spinning in front of me. I guess those are the stars they show dancing around the heads of cartoon characters when they get smacked on the noggin. My first thought was, “Damn… someone broke in and they just knocked me out! I should’ve kept my door closed!” Then it hit me (quite literally). There wasn’t anyone out to get me. Well, no one but me. I ran into the edge of the open door.
Needless to say, I slammed the thing, mumbled a few choice words and swore to chew Derek out for suggesting it in the first place.
So far, no bruising. Although it is a little swollen and pretty darn tender.
Maybe one day I’ll learn to walk. Or I’ll buy a helmet.