boo hoo

Last Saturday was the first day of school. It  was a weird day for me, because I'm only teaching one class now, so I was kind of just putzing around much of the time, trying to find something to do while everyone else was busy.

I guess at some point, feeling all competent and together because I managed to show up on time to my only class, wearing my favorite Anthropologie skirt and pumpkin spice latte in hand, I maybe fell victim to a little hubris. This, as it turns out, was an unwise reaction.

As I made my way up to school meeting after class, I was busy chatting with a few former students. I should explain now that I teach in a building on the lower part of campus, and school meeting is in a building only accessible by a long flight of aging, somewhat crumbled, concrete steps. The edges of the path are flanked by a heavy (industrial, really) black chain. I think you see where this is going.

At some point, I ventured too close to the edge of the path, and before I knew it, my ankle had rolled over the edge, and down I went, in a stunningly dramatic fashion. I bruised one knee and badly skinned the other. Somehow, I also landed armpit first on top of the chain. Worst of all, of course, was the fact that at least half of the student population was headed up the steps with me, and I have been too afraid to dwell on whether or not my skirt stayed in place while I tumbled.

I righted myself quickly and headed up the rest of the stairs, dignity shattered and half my latte on the steps. By the time I got up to the meeting, though, my whole left leg was covered in blood from my skinned knee. I intercepted some friends, who used one of the classroom first aid kits to clean me up and paste some haphazard gauze contraption to my knee (and we got to use a bio hazard bag!), and then I managed to limp on stage (because on the first day of school, all the faculty sit on the stage in front of the kids! delightful!) just in time.

The bruise that later developed on my arm was truly in the top five of the most impressive I've ever had (second only to the one I got from my H1N1 shot last year). Honestly: fist-sized, purple and black, and painful even to look at. I don't even want to talk about how much my knee hurts, but I sense I just got myself one step closer to our traditional family knee replacement. Worst of all, of course, is the dignity. Let this be a lesson, friends - the gods will smite the overconfident.