After this morning’s incident in the bathroom, I figured I’d do another list of things I’ve done, this one being the cringe worthy list (Some or most of these might have made it to my blog before, but I simply cannot be bothered to go trolling through the whole thing in order to find out. I'm lazy like that.) :
- This morning I managed to burn my eyelid. I was drying my hair and somehow poked myself in th eye with the business end of the blowdryer. You know how it’s got a metal screen on the front? Yeah, I tried to brand myself…
- I’ve managed to practically sink a pedal boat (I could link to this story but again, I'm truly way to lazy to be bothered), but y’all know about that.
- I’ve also walked through a restaurant door. A plate glass door. Shattered it. Bang. Ouch. Much mayhem and many flustered waiters ensued. They opened the second door and escorted me to my table. Probably because they were afraid I'd walk through that one too. Not a good idea in January in Montreal. The restaurant would've been a tad chilly after that.
- I pretty much flipped myself over a subway turnstile once when I swiped my card through too quickly. More quickly than the signal could make it to the turnstile obviously. Idjit.
- I’ve put a scarf through the office shredder – while it was around my neck – about a month after I started my job. They still talk about it. Embarassing doesn't even begin to cover it.
- I walked into the plate glass door at the office (I have a thing for plate glass doors dontcha know). I saw the outside door was open so I simply assumed the inside door was open too. It wasn’t. Again, ouch.
- I’ve flown off a horse – when it turned right at full gallop I continued straight. It's an interesting feeling, flying is. I wonder if that's how birds feel, execpt for the landing of course.
- I've stepped on my skirt and fallen to my knees while boarding a bus. At rush hour, of course. Paying hommage to the bus driver perhaps.
- I've burned myself on ovens and wood burning stoves too many times to count.
- I've also sliced and diced myself more often than I care to remember, including the time I pushed the lawn mower over my foot.
I’m a danger to myself. Sometimes I wonder how I made it to 46.