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You just have to laugh, 2003-04-14, 6:52 a.m.


I've decided that I really am a klutz.

This klutziness does not extend to falling down all the time, nor does it extend to hilarious misadventures involving dogs, roller blades, bananna peels and ice cream. Instead it involves unwilling destruction of things around me which just happen to not really be in my way.

For example, my husband has a new phone booth. (Don't ask). It's new to him; he bought it on e-bay and is an older style. It shipped across the states and to our neck of the woods no problem. Arriving in perfect condition, it was put in the kitchen for a bit while we figured out where to put it. Enter me and a bottle of salsa.

In putting away the groceries on saturday, the day after it was recieved, I hit it accidently with a bottle of salsa still in the grocery bag. It chipped paint from the front of it, creating a spot that later gleamed in the sunlight, shining at us as if to say 'I'm not longer perfect and it's her fault'.

The fun does not end. The phone enclosure has been placed near the window where we go rarely. Last night I went to look out at the snow. Because yes, it snowed. In trying to avoid the phone enclosure, I stepped on a wire and tore it out of the speaker. Ripped it out to be exact. Could have ripped the back off of the speaker. It took D. about five minutes to be able to get it back on.

Of course, personal pain to those I love has to be put in as well. D. hurt his foot last night, running to answer the doorbell when I was coming home (we ring the door bell to alert the other to hold onto the cat so he doens't bolt). He actually broke a toe. Lying in the bed last night in considerable pain, he had his feet over the edge. I come along and go to give him a little love rub in support of him. I swat his toe and give it a good smack. Not any other toe. The broken one. He has forgiven me, but that may have been the waves of pain talking.

I've also made a fool of myself in other ways. Yesterday I took a pair of underwear out of the dryer. They weren't mine. Looking at them and seeing a strap-like feature, I thought, 'ah, thong panties'. Then I noticed another strap, hanging down at the bottom. I then thought 'Who owns the crotchless panties and where do I put them'. Taking a closer look, I realized that what I was holding was not, as I assumed, crotchless panties, but instead a sports bra.

Why tell you all of this? Well, I need to write it all down to remember to laugh at myself later. I figured I'd give you the chance to laugh at me too.

In other news, allergy test today. Let's see what mayhem I can cause there.....


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