If only I was not so clumsy...

On my 22^nd Birthday, I chipped my tooth on a bottle of Chardon, classy ay.   I was in the backseat of a friends car, he was not feeling well and was driving us into town.  He hit the gas, as I raised the bottle to my lips and they collided.  I did not realise till the next day that I had chipped my tooth.  Not a big chip, but big enough that it is still there and that I can notice it.

I am clumsy.  Not in a cute, adorable, oh she fell over kind of way, but in a messy heap at the bottom of the stairs kind of way.  Which brings me to stairs.  I am terrible at them.  I have fallen up them, down them, sideways off them.  I have been seriously injured on them twice.  Once was when I was a teenager and playing silly buggers.  I was going up stairs three at a time with my friends and somehow managed to fall backwards and dislocate my knee.  It was awful watching it pop out and then when my foot hit the ground watching and feeling it pop back in.  I was strapped up for about 6 weeks and now have a permanently weak knee.

The next time I really hurt myself it was also on the stairs.  I was rushing out the door with my jandals on to move my car so that my friends could get out of their driveway.  It had been raining, I slipped on their wooden stairs and fell from the top to the bottom,  then landed in a muddled heap.  With a thud.  They came running around the corner and found me there, beginning to untangle myself.  My ankle was not a great colour.  Sprained rather badly.  I managed to move the car, take a shower, and then get to my parents where my Dad and nephew doted on me for the rest of the day.  Sam was so cute.  He kept patting my leg asking if I was ok and then crawling onto my lap for stories, he was lucky as I was his captive all day.  I spent another 6 weeks in flats and with a swollen ankle.  It’s still not right.

 

I always thought that I would grow out of my clumsiness before I had a million smile lines.  I thought that one day I would not fall over my own feet.  Instead I continue to slip, fall and injure myself in public, private or otherwise.  I guess that there are loads of things that we hope that we grow out of.  I always thought growing up that I would become one of those people who would be able to jump out of bed and not look like something that the cat dragged in the night before.  That I would have my life together and learn to budget.  I wanted to grow up.  But alas I am still waiting for that time to come.  And still wondering when I will grow up. 

 

The one thing that is the way I thought that it would be when I grew up, is that I am living in London.  I wanted to do that from a very young age.  I have travelled and seen the world.  I always wanted that.  Not quite in the way that I thought I would, but I have done it.  But then nothing is ever like you think it will be.  You have an image in your head and the reality might be similar but never quite as you thought.

So what did you think that your life would be like when you grew up?  Are you living it?  What is different about it?