So my lovely unbiological sister came to town for some girl time the other day. I’ve been ridiculously excited to see her (hello, adult time with someone who doesn’t keep me up half the night farting) and it was finally time.

We went to see Cock Blockers. Highly recommended, btw, if you’re into raunchy humor and the occasional flash of ballsack. I also appreciated one of the fathers of the teenage girls trying to lose their virginities busting into a hotel room, picking up the boyfriend of his daughter, and throwing him into a wall. I may have even cheered out loud and shook my enormous bag of popcorn.

We were starving by the time the movie let out so we decided to get some pizza and breadsticks in us before the lack of carbs made us cranky. She isn’t a smoker, but I am and was dying for a smoke by the time we got to the restaurant. We’re hanging out by her car and having a good ol’ conversation when tragedy strikes.

One thing to know about me is that if I’m standing on my feet, I can’t hold still. I shift my weight back and forth, I step to the side a little. I’m always moving somehow. And it finally bit me in the ass.

Winter has been harsh and never ending here this year and has left it’s mark on pretty much every road and parking lot in this town and every other I’ve been to lately. The parking lot here was no exception, and if you add in my luck…well…I hit a freaking pothole.

I step onto the edge of it with my left foot, and since that foot had the brunt of my weight behind it, I swung my right leg around and actually managed to stop my fall before I completely faceplanted. I’m sure it looked weird doing some strange, swingy dance move but I couldn’t have cared less what it looked like. I had saved myself! Bwahahaha!

At least I had until my left flip-flop snapped on me and plummeted me to the pavement like fat chick going splat.

I immediately popped back up, but the damage had already been done. I thought my sister was going to pee her pants she was laughing so hard. All I could think to do was to get inside as quickly as possible. Get away from the scene of the crime, and all, right? Plus my foot and my knee were killing me from scraping it on the pavement. I’m hobbling inside, and it’s slow going because for one thing that freaking hurt, and for another, my flip-flop is all flop now since the piece between the toes ripped out of the shoe. I’m limping and my shoe is flapping onto the floor announcing the presence of the idiot who just faceplanted in the parking lot.

Dinner afterward was pretty tame compared to my entrance.

Weather for the next few days was pretty crappy. No real sunshine, chilly, and drizzly. I worked a couple double-days at work (those fun open to close shifts, yay me!) and only had a half day after that. I was excited to get through my half day and get some time off. Apparently a little too excited, since when I got to my car I realized I had left my work keys in my apartment and had to trudge back upstairs to get them. I wasn’t quite running, but I was walking fast up the sidewalk when I hit a patch of wet dirt, slid, and faceplanted again.

That’s right…I slid in the freaking wet dirt that gets stuck between blocks of sidewalk in that little crack. It wasn’t quite wet enough to make mud, but just enough to get squishy and slippery. I hit it like it was a banana peel in a cartoon, started to fall backwards, and over-corrected when I threw myself forward so I wouldn’t hit my back. Instead I went forward. It felt like my left ankle turned itself into a squiggly line. My enormous portable black hole of a purse swung in front of me (thank god) and took the brunt of the fall for my upper body, but my right knee again took the brunt of the fall and sacrificed its skin.

It sucked. It sucked as it was happening, too. I couldn’t believe it. In fact, it was so unbelievable to me that as I was falling I screamed, “Are you serious?!” I mean, what did I expect was going to happen? Did I think gravity was going to push me back upright and say, “haha, just kidding!”?

I’m pretty sure the only thing that saved my upper body was the fact that my giant purse cushioned my fall. You know how some women claim they carry everything in their purse? I can back my shit up, honey. I had a notebook, my planner, a pack of sticky notes, a variety of hair products, random pens and markers, a tank top, my wallet, and half a bag of Doritos bouncing around in that sucker.

I was completely filthy and still had to go grab my keys anyway, so I hauled my sore body upstairs and walked back into the apartment while dying laughing. My husband looked at me, did a double-take, and practically ran over to me while bellowing, “What the hell happened? You were gone for 30 seconds! 30 seconds!”

Dude. When it comes to my life, a lot can happen in 30 seconds. Obviously.

I changed and made sure I grabbed everything I needed. That adorable man actually escorted me to the car because he was afraid of what would happen if I was left on my own again.

So I got to go to work that night with a broken finger (had my keys in my hand when I fell and it didn’t end well), my left ankle sprained, and my right knee pretty much scraped raw and getting blood on my pants every time I moved. I couldn’t even pick a leg to limp on because they both hurt.

And that’s my life in a nutshell. Gotta love it!