Well, everyone knows me to be a big klutz. Whether I'm spilling something, tripping, falling, stumbling, banging, crashing, smacking or inadvertently whacking some part of my body into, onto or between something, I've definitely got some klutz in me. I thought at 22 years old, the worst of it would be over, since I've done ballet, am doing yoga and learning more about self-balance and can actually see a difference in my posture and grace....but alas, an Ashley moment happened.
I wanted to go for a short run, so I decided to run around the University of Chicago, not the track, but the actual school. They have an area that I call the midway, (it's actually named Midway Pleasance) but it's the midway point between Hyde Park and my house. Anyway, I'm running over there, like usual, with my towel around my neck, iPod on my hip and shoes nice and laced up. Breathing's good, pace is great, heart is beating regularly, and I feel good. I decide to cut across the path behind one of the school's buildings and then swing around to do a cool down lap before I go to my car and head back home, and what do I do...I trip over a rock and badly sprain my ankle. Well, since I'm on a low-traffic path, I'm laying there for a while, in pain, and trying to decide what I should do. My good friend Andrew, who I've known since my private school days, happens to go the school, so I call him up on my cell phone, and thank god, he happens to be in the Starbucks on campus, which is actually about a half block in distance from where I am. He comes over to where I am, picks me up, (how gallant of him) and carries me to the ER. After waiting about an hour and a half, I not only have a really 'sexy' orthopedic shoe, (yeah right), that I'm supposed to wear for five days, I also have a really sexy pair of metal crutches that I don't really need as well.
When I get home, my mom is all concerned, fretting over me and my ankle and she's been babying me for the past three days. I don't mind it actually, it's nice to see her so concerned over me, telling me to stay in bed, and fixing me everything, kinda makes me feel like I did when I had walking pneumonia, except I'm conscious enough to actually enjoy it. I called off of work, for two days and I went in today, to only be called Gimpy by my boss. He's such an a**hole. Another girl I work with said I injured myself on purpose so I could get time off, but I said to her, "Hey, unlike you, I actually like working for this department and this company, so shut the hell up!" I've been here, plowing through all these calls I have to return, and I'm finally finished, so I'm waiting for 230 to leave and go home.
Yay, I just found out I can leave!
Hobbling around does have its advantages....
Ashley Robin
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