Self-inflicted

I think I've written about it before, but I'm a little clumsy. I trip over my own feet as I walk, crash into doorjambs, and sometimes, just fall down. And that's just me by myself. Throw an object into the mix, and it's a recipe for disaster. A few weeks ago, I was puttering around the house and was just absently walking around, holding a plastic hanger. For some reason, I was holding it about chest height, with one of its ends pointed straight at my sternum. Which would be okay, except for the fact that I walked too close to the bedroom door and basically rammed the end of the hanger straight into my chest.

Two days later, I was vacuuming and went to unplug the vacuum. I grabbed the cord about a foot from the plug and as I was pulling it out of the wall, I realized the plug bit was going to splash into the cats' water bowl below, so I did some sort of flippy thing with my wrist and managed to swing the plug up and away from the water...straight into my nose. Hard.

And then there was this morning. I did some laundry last night and hung up a jacket to dry. Chris moved it from the doorway and hung it against a high piece of molding on the wall. As I tried to get it down this morning, I couldn't reach the hanger itself, so I grabbed the bottom of the jacket and sort of pushed up to dislodge the hanger. And of course, the hooky end of the hanger flipped down and bonked me right on the forehead.

It hurts to be me.