Tag Archives: klutz

Just the Tip

When I exited my car, there was nothing unusual about the night. It was around nine o’clock, and my intentions were to spend the remainder of the evening watching television with The Boyfren, while sipping beer and laughing profusely (because Rick & Morty).

It was the perfect plan for a Monday.

As I stood up from the driver’s seat, I glanced into the neighbor’s driveway. What sat there, curiously peering at me, was a fuzzy brown and white cat. It made me smile.  I had seen this cat before and knew that was a sweet one.  I quickly made plans in my head to pet this kitty before heading into the house.

While devising my strategy for approaching the feline without scaring it away, and watching the cat to make sure I knew where it went if it moved, I absentmindedly swung my car door shut…RIGHT ONTO MY PINKY FINGER!! I’m not talking a “shut and bounce back due to finger being in the way” sort of swing, either!  That fucker LATCHED on me!!!

My initial reaction was shock! As quickly as it happened, I reached over with my other hand and opened the door, freeing my now-bleeding pinky finger.  Luckily, I had smashed just the tip.  (Zing!)

At this point, I was thinking to myself that the cute cat could go fuck itself! It was probably laughing inside with the most adorably evil kitty laugh.

Now my goals for the next hour changed from petting cats and laughing at television to the following:

  1. Do not klutzily hit finger on any object while rushing into the restroom.
  2. Assess the wound.
  3. Do not faint.
  4. Clean the wound.
  5. Continue NOT fainting.
  6. Bandage the wound.
  7. Seriously follow through on the not-fainting goal.
  8. Make Boyfren bring ice pack and pain-numbing shots of liquor to me for the rest of the night.
  9. Do not faint.

I know it can be difficult to achieve all of one’s goals in a night, but I can say I succeeded this time.

Now, three days later, I have a black and purple fingernail, and a pinky that is truly pissed at me for typing this up…because it hurts.

New life goals to add to already existing ones:

  1. Stop breaking fingers.
  2. Do not be distracted by cats when car doors are open.
  3. Do not faint.

Target Cart

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The shopping carts at Target remind me of giant versions of toy carts—the kind you would play with when you were three years old and load up with plastic versions of fruit, vegetables, and empty food boxes.

I think they’re ridiculous.

THEY…. think I am ridiculous.

Last Sunday, I went grocery shopping at Target. It was a normal trip…. followed by an abnormal ‘trip’.

In the parking lot afterwards, it was raining. As I walked my cart back to its designated spot in the lot, I somehow managed to lose my shoe. I swear to you, it just HOPPED RIGHT OFF my foot!! As I turned to retrieve the flip-flop, the cart began to tip.

So picture this: A girl in the middle of a busy parking lot, with a cart toppling over while wearing only one shoe…in the rain……EXCLAIMING,

“Why is this so hard???”

This is just typically me.

Why I Shouldn’t Play Pranks

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I am in a rush to work out today.  Running later than usual to my cardio session, I still have a smile on my face.  This is not just an average grin, but one of the ornery variety.  It reflects the feelings of pure joy I have at my previous creativity! 

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Ever since Christmas-time, I have had a bottle of Elmer’s Washable Clear School Glue at my desk.  This was originally used for a fun/silly contest that involved the decorating of a Christmas tree picture.  Obviously, the “season of giving” is over, but I still have an almost-full bottle of glue!

Yesterday, I earnestly messaged Heather for a stroke of inspiration.  What should I do with it??  I wanted to use it so badly!! 

I thought to myself, “There must be SOME fun thing I could do with this, something that needs mending or decorated!!”

No clear thought came to me until today.

Even though I was busy all day, I was able to find a few minutes this morning to boost my office morale and USE MY AWESOME, CLEAR GLUE!!  The plan was masterful, yet subtle.  I could tell you what I did here, but on the off chance that the victim reads my blog, I shall leave it out.  I only hope that my little prank isn’t so subtle that it doesn’t get noticed for a week—this is possible. 

But, I can wait….oh yes….I am patient.

But I digress!  Back to the locker room–where I’m quickly changing into my workout garb and hoping that the next round of exercises won’t be in full swing until I emerge.

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I’m dressed.

I grab a pony-tail holder and begin to sweep my hair up and out of my face.

THIS is when I realize that my simple little prank somehow went awry.  There, just above my ear, I feel it.

Something as hard as rock…something……………….. stuck in my hair!

An expression of utter puzzlement crosses my face, and then the epiphany slams into me like a ton of bricks!!

I HAVE GLUE IN MY HAIR!!!

At the very moment this realization hits, a pounding begins…

It’s not my head…

It’s not my imagination….

It’s the fitness trainer!! 

Cory’s knocking on the door to let me know that “HEY…..WE WERE GOING TO WAIT FOR YOU, BUT YOU’RE OBVIOUSLY TAKING AN HOUR IN THERE TO CHANGE!”  (At least, that’s what I imagine is going through his head….)

But everyone who is out there waiting on me–they just DON’T KNOW!!

I have a horrible “Something About Mary” type of situation, and the only way to remedy it might be too awful to imagine!!!

I begin to panic, clawing at the clump, to no avail!  I pull out my brush and swipe, SWIPE, SWIPE at the glued hair!!  It finally begins to come loose, and I start picking at it again, like some desperate sort of caged animal who is close to escape!!

It won’t all come out….it’s somehow managed to BOND ITSELF to my hair!  The glue has completely engulfed my DNA, mated with my hair follicle, and it is a part of me!!  There’s only ONE WAY TO BE RID OF IT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

**YANK**

**TEAR**

**SCRAPE, SCRAPE**

**RIIIIIIIIIIP**

It is done. 

A triumphant smile returns to my face as I waltz into the fitness room.

This is why I shouldn’t play pranks.

It’s a Happy Friday Beginning!

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From time to time (In other words, EVERY stinkin’ day for me), things happen without my immediately realizing it, and when I DO finally figure it out, it confirms the fact that often, certain outside forces beat me at life….or something like that.

Almost every morning, on my normal workday rush, not only do I drive to work, but I also tend to call upon my multi-tasking skills and eat breakfast, plus do my makeup while in the car.  (Don’t be concerned….I have enough damn stoplights on my way in to work that there is plenty of time that I’m not actually in a moving vehicle while doing these things.  Okay, Mom?  DON’T…WORRY!)

This particular morning, I grabbed an ever-so-nutritious protein bar for breakfast.  This flavor was “Caramel Nut”, and included being half-way dipped into some sort of protein, caramel-flavored “icing”.  The stuff is DELICIOUS, so I ate it as quickly as a ravenous wolf! 

Commence with the makeup application! 

Some days, the brush drops into my lap, and I’m left with a bit of light shimmer on my pants.  It wipes off fairly easily.  I only fear the day that the brush drops underneath my seat, for my car will surely eat it, and I will never see it again!  At that point, I will only have my fingertips to apply my eye-shadow, and then I’ll undoubtedly “accidentally” wipe them off afterwards on something…like my seat….or shirt….or arm.  Probably my arm, just to see how many people notice that the streaks of color on my appendages make me look like a homeless chimney sweeper when I arrive to work.  At least then I could burst into song and start referring to my coworkers as “Mary Poppins”.  They would only EXPECT something that absurd at this point.

I digress…back to the protein bar!  After arriving to work, AND riding the elevator (WITH PEOPLE…people of OTHER businesses in this building) to my floor, and then sitting at my desk, I finally LOOK DOWN at my pants.  (I should seriously consider keeping a mirror in my car.) The icing that I had Loooooooved so much earlier apparently loved me back!!  It had decided to partially break off from the breakfast bar and smear itself all over the CROTCH region of my pants!!  White “icing” on my black pants…I can only IMAGINE what my fellow elevator-riders must have thought! 

It’s just another day where gravity, along with my klutz factor, WINS against me. 

Happy Friday, You Guys!  Please pass the coffee…

“Car”nivore #leahwouldramble

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Perhaps it is no accident that the word “car” can be found in “carnivorous”.

This morning, I removed my badge from my purse to gain entry to our parking garage, as usual.  I kept hold of the plastic key in one hand after gaining access, drove through the gate and to a parking space.   I shifted the car into park, and, it being early in the morning, causing my klutziness to kick into high gear, I dropped my badge in between my mid-console and seat.

“Crap!”

This chasm where things fall at times can be a seemingly bottomless pit in my car! (Basically, it’s a trap that is comparable to a woman’s purse.)

 Luckily, I could see the badge, and I decided to reach my hand down to retrieve it.  It was slightly out of contact, but then, advancing a little more… I could JUST feel it with my fingertips, so I decided to plunge my hand slightly further until…

“Aha!”

Got it!  It’s very slightly held between two of my fingers, but I GOT it!  I go to remove my hand with the lost-and-now-found badge, and immediately get stuck.  Apparently, I wedged myself down there in a strange twisted position.  At this point I feel like a chimpanzee in one of those monkey-jar-traps.

No problem, I just have to turn a little to the right…and….

My left foot moves up on the floor, and the heel of my shoe finds the hole where there’s a hook for the floor rug.  Of COURSE, that hole is JUST the right size for my heel to GET STUCK.  And does it ever!!

So here I am, my shoe/foot stuck to the floor on my left, and my hand stuck next to the seat on my right! 

“Please, don’t let anyone be watching this spectacle!!!!” I’m thinking fervently.

After a few embarrassing seconds, I wriggle my foot out of my shoe, enabling me to twist to the side and pull up on my hand, releasing it.  Then I pry the shoe from the floor. 

It’s over.  My car tried to eat me, and I survived.