So, I was nearly home..off the busiest street and onto my quiet little street..thank goodness. I was only a house down from my own. I was feeling good. The work day had gone by quickly, the weather was nice. I was looking so cute in my outfit, olive green tank top with brown braided belt, covered by a cream colored short sleeve cardigan..matched with my Levi's and an adorable pair of cork-heeled wedges. I was thinking of even taking a picture of my outfit to post here. And with that thought in my head...it happened. My ankle rolled. I lurched forward trying to catch my balance and save myself from toppling over, but it was too late. It happened in the blink of an eye but seemed to go in slow motion. I had my house keys in one hand and my empty coffee mug in the other. One of them had to go so that I could try and break my fall with something other than my face. So my coffee mug went flying and my purse went sailing over my head as I let out a yelp and fell down.
It was not graceful.
It was not pretty.
And if any of my neighbors had seen they would have hurried over to make sure I was ok because I landed like a ton of bricks. But none of my neighbors were outside..hallelujah..and I didn't see any blinds being shuffled or bent as I picked myself up. Everyone missed it. Good for me, bad for them..because it probably looked hilarious. I was laughing at myself as I did the walk of shame the rest of the way to my house and promptly texted my husband.
Me:"I just busted my ass walking home"
Jeremy: "LOL (thanks honey), whatd you do"
Me: "I just fell off these stupid wedges"
The knee of my Levi's had a very pretty skid mark on it. Without the jeans there would have been lots and lots of blood. And my wedges, well..their a little scratched up too. The palm of my hand was throbbing and my knee looked like this:
Days later my knee is now a lovely shade of mottled purple..it matches my top. The bruising on my pride might take a little longer to heal.