By Beauty Damned

Smooth Move

Dear Diary,

As you know, I've had my share of mortifying moments and embarassing spills in my life. Though I dreamed of being a ballerina as a child, I haven't always come off as altogether graceful. There have been far too many klutzy incidents, to the point that I would almost say I'm accident-prone. Which worries me. Because I'm also a worry-wart and I worry about things like dying in some freak accident as a result of my own spaced-out stupidity and hectic approach to things, i.e., leaping onto the train that one time, just as the doors were closing, getting my heel caught on the cuff of my trousers and flying face first onto the otherwise quiet morning train. That was one for the books.

So I guess it's no surprise that last night at about 5:45 p.m., I was in my boss's office with another boss and an associate, discussing where we would be holding a litigation luncheon, when I unconsentually embarked on another fantastically embarassing (and injurious! Extra points!) episode in the life of Maria. I start off looking over my boss's shoulder at the computer, turn to walk around to the other side of the desk where boss #2 and associate are standing. I have to weave for just a second between a big box of documents and a guest chair. For some stupid reason, I lift my foot to scratch my ankle; a bad omen for what is right around the corner. As I lower my foot to the floor and open my mouth to make a comment, the skinny heel of my shoe hooks on the seat of the guest chair, sending my body down while rotating in a counter-clockwise position towards the floor. I banged my ankle and slammed my knee on the floor and when it was happening I felt as if I would never stop falling. As I felt a total loss of control over my limbs, saw the floor coming into view and my hair flying around my face, I thought: no fucking way is this really happening to me.

I took the tumble and got up immediately, knowing there was no time to waste in regaining my composure. I felt like such an idiot. I tried to laugh it off and they were all very kind. They didn't laugh, not even the smallest chuckle. I guess I'm used to falling over in front of my friends and just having them laugh at me, so I wasn't prepared for their humorless reaction. They asked if I was okay and I assured them I was. Then they went back to the conversation. It was nice in a way. It made me feel a little bit less stupid. Like these are just things that happen and it's not anything to dwell on. But I don't know how not to dwell.

After it happened I went back to my desk. I was still pretty mortified. I told my friends Babs and Jen what had happened. Babs told me to put ice on my ankle and Jen told me she had a good doctor from when she fractured her foot. I felt okay. Ankle was a little sore, but it didn't feel like a big deal. Of course, it never does, does it? I took off the heels and put on a pair of flat Timberland boots and made the commute home. I iced it all night on and off. This morning I woke up and it was very sore and stiff. I decided to make an appointment this afternoon with an Orthopedist just to get it x-rayed and make sure nothing is fractured. It moves okay and I can walk flat-footed, but I slipped on a heeled shoe this morning just to test it and it hurt like hell. No way can I walk in a heel right now. That worries me. Because I really like heels and this week is the holiday party and I might end up with a fabulous ace bandage or a cast rather than the sexy mary-janes I had picked out. Well, maybe I can have at least one sexy mary-jane and use crutches. Uh, that sounds awful. I hope it gets better really, really quickly. Nothing like the thought of going to the holiday party in a cast or limping around to do my holiday shopping. Maybe it's just badly bruised and I won't even need a cast or a bandage. I'm keeping my fingers crossed.