Thursday 12 March 2015

WHY AM I SO CLUMSY??!!

On Tuesday, I returned to work after 9 glorious days of doing nothing but internet and procrastinating. I think I only ventured outside maybe 4 times, one of those was to help on a water station at the Bath Half Marathon (according to the rather pink t-shirt that I got given, I was a "racemaker". Yup. Go me.) and another was going to Oxford to see Collabro live in concert. They were frickin' AMAZING!! YAY for musical theatre songs!

Where was I? Oh yes. 9 days off, blahblahblah. Within 6 hours (I shit you not) of being back at work, I had already sliced open my finger with cardboard, and the pizza baguette that I was eating for lunch almost slid off my plate and onto the floor whilst I was cutting it. 

WHY ME???


I know that my clumsiness is generally due to me being tall and awkward. I have no balance what so ever. I've even been known to trip over thin air. *facepalms* I would love to last a whole week without getting damaged in some way. For example, I'm finishing this post on Thursday and I somehow cut another finger today. HOW DID I DO THIS??? *cries*

The worst part is that I have the type of skin that doesn't heal well. I think I've got at least 10 scars on my body from various incidents. Let me show you some evidence:


Let's call this one the 'Baking Tray Accident'. I burnt my arm above (yes, above) the elbow bend with a pre-heated baking tray. Only I would hold a hot object too close to my body instead of at arms length. I really do fail at life.

Do not, I beg of you, sit down to eat a plate of spag bol when you are wearing shorts because the boiling pasta may slide off your plate and onto your leg. Yes, this really did happen. 

Just look at how messed up my left knee is! Can you see the red mark? Below it is what happens when you are running in the playground, stop suddenly because the bell has rung for the end of break-time....and you skid. 
What is the long scar from I hear you ask? WELL. When I was a teenager, my knee used to dislocate at least twice a year. This epic scar happened when I was 16 and I fell awkwardly during a PE lesson at school. The knee popped out and when I got it X-Rayed at A&E, the doctors discovered that I had managed to chip a bit of bone off my kneecap. WHAAATTTT??? HOWWWW??? Again, I'm such a fail. After an op to screw the bone back on (yay! metal in my leg!), I spent weeks on crutches and I couldn't bend my leg properly for months. 


I love my scars though. They prove that I even though I am a clumsy oaf who sometimes forgets how stairs work or tests gravity to make sure it's still working or has an unique ability to walk into sharp objects, I can survive anything. Although, if I make it to old age, it will be a miracle. 

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