London Bridge Ain’t All That’s Falling Down

Yesterday I fell – slid down seven stairs on my ass, leaving deposits of skin from my left forearm, side and back littering the path like so much DNA’d breadcrumbs. My wrist seems to be sprained and my back, neck and shoulder are in an incredible amount of pain. Simply put, I am fucked up!

So, I sat down to write and had lofty ideals of spinning this painful happening into some sort of philosophical recounting. Of finding a way to take what has happened and use it as a “teachable moment” – you know, maybe to emphasize how (if it’s not you that’s experiencing it) fascinating pain is. Truly. Think about it – one day something happens and it stings, it may even hurt. But that next day and the day after that? Sheesh! That is when pain at its fullest arrives!!! It seems as if, whether mentally or physically, we need some time to process what has happened, to truly connect with the fact that, “damn; that shit hurt!” before we get the full import of the physical (or emotional) manifestation. Maybe even address how down deep pain needs to go in its cycle before it gets better and how absofuckinglutely spectacularly life-changing that moment is when you realize you no longer hurt as badly!

So yes, I’d meant to expound on this occurrence and spin it this way and that in order to highlight its many metaphoric components. But the truth is, the only thing I have learned from this is that I need to be more careful how I step… especially when I am not wearing heels! There is nothing more profound coming from me – all I have is, “ouch”! I hurt very very badly and all I want to do is cry!

Wishing yall a much better time than I am having. Ouch 😦

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