Ow. Oof. Yikes! SH!T!!! These are the sounds of me walking through the house, cooking, moving furniture, carrying anything for that matter, or basically, um, breathing.
Yes, world, I am here to admit to my shame: I … am a clutz. It’s true. My soul has an almost ethereal natural grace about it. My body? Not so much.
I have actually read and been told that being clutzy can be a part of ADD. No one has really offerred an explanation for it, so I’ll surmise that we’re not quite as aware of what is surrounding us/going on around us/where our bodies fit into it all. Sure, I can go with that.
The running joke in our house used to be: “I’m going to make dinner.” “Okay, I’m sorry you burned yourself.” Because it was GOING to happen. No matter what. Now imagine that I worked in the restaurant business for about 4 years, 3 of them near a 600-degree oven. How I’m not scarred like my entire body survived a 4-alarm fire, I have no idea because I earned it. Have you ever reached over and grabbed a probably 475-500-degree pan with your bare hands? I have. I’m here to tell you that it smarts.
Actually, the bumps, bruises, injuries, burns, etc., where I make the most noise aren’t usually the ones where I am the most injured. It’s when you hear a sharp intake of breath and then a quiet voice calling out words that you can’t actually hear, that’s when there could be an ER involved. The pan? I didn’t even do that; the only sound was the pan dropping on the table, the collective stunned silence of the people around me as they watched in horror, and my footsteps walking as fast as I could to the back so that I could immediately immerse my hand in vat full of ice.
Today, however, has been one significant THUD after another. I have: BASHED the very edge of my elbow into the sharp edge of the closet door (a solid 5 minutes with my head between my knees trying not to lose my lunch), SMACKED 3 toes into the corner on the leg of our rolling dining room chair, and CRASHED into a huge amplifier that is in the normal walking path in our basement. By the by, that’s the second time I’ve done that this week. Thankfully, the most recent one was on my thigh instead of my shin. Not because it hurts less than the other did but because at least I didn’t hit the same already traumatized spot.
Can you get long-term disability checks because you’re a danger to yourself when you MOVE?