I renewed my resolve this year to take the stairs up to my desk on the fourth floor of my building. Last Friday I was happily climbing the staircase, step by step, when the slick leather sole of my gorgeous, black Lucchese boots (thanks Dad!) gave way on the concrete stairs as I approached the fourth-floor landing.
In a fraction of a moment, I was flailing about, arms heavy with my computer, my coffee, my purse and my ID badge. I didn't want to crush my laptop screen, I didn't want to chuck coffee everywhere and I most certainly didn't want to drop my ID badge all the way back down to the first floor (that's a lot of stairs!).
So I let my face and my right knee break my fall.
My knee is still pretty black and blue, mostly due to the fact that when I fell I nailed the edge of the stairs dead on. My face was pretty red for most of the day, only partly due to embarassment, but mostly because I caught the railing with my cheekbone. I'm wincing just thinking about it.
I spent the next few hours at my desk, getting to know an ice pack and trying to read and write e-mail with one hand, which is much more difficult than over-30 Internet trolls make it seem.
I would post pictures of my awesome-looking bruise, but better judgment prevails.
I'll post soon about my awesome-faced three-day weekend.