There are times, I assume in everyone's life, when you just can't seem to get your feet underneath you. It reminds me of a post I wrote back in January when I couldn't get my feet underneath me:
I tripped over an uneven part of the walkway. It was one of those trips where you think you can just take a couple of quick steps and recover, yanno?I think it's interesting how something that in January happened in less than one minute of time can be dragging itself out here in May over weeks.
Except I couldn't... but once I had already taken a couple of quick steps I was sort of committed to my plan of trying to recover the trip. So I sort of tried to jump for the recover. Except that didn't work and therefore I had to sort of run to recover. Except that didn't work so I sort of ran into the van. Hard. With my face... and neck... and chest... and more. And then I hit the ground. And then I couldn't breathe. And The Man thought maybe I had broken my neck. And then when he realized I was going to live he asked me... "What the hell was that?!!"
And we laughed.
And laughing hurt.
I know if I can't get my feet underneath myself I'll fall... and probably hard. And then when it's all over I'll pick myself up and we'll laugh again. And the laughing might hurt a little bit. But we heal and life goes on.
It's not even that anything momentous has happened... I just somehow got my feet out from underneath me. Just one little trip and all of a sudden I'm heading face first for the pavement.
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