Funny story: I have been doing so well staying upright this winter. I've even avoided the windmill affect (where you stand there swinging your arms in giant circles, praying to every god you've ever heard of that you can find your balance sometime before your face hits the pavement). The worst of it was a 2-inch slip of the foot and a startled scream. I felt like I was queen of the ice. Especially compared to my roommate who walks like an 80-year-old woman who needs a hip replacement. Something about being scared of falling? ...paranoid. So here's the embarrassing part. Even the mighty queen of the ice was not a match for this deadly freeze on Thursday. I was running barely on-time for class (as per usual) and started trekking up the hill, passing the slow pokes on the left like a squatty little roadrunner when all of the sudden my quick steps are not finding the right propulsion and my boots (the cute kind, not the utilitarian kind) were finding no purchase. Each step I took was met with zero traction, which is not typically a problem on flat surfaces but is absolutely impossible on an incline! I saw my life flash before my eyes!!! Each step slipped back a few centimeters and I knew there was nothing stopping me from sliding all the way back down the hill and tumbling all the way back into my nice warm house and never going back up to campus ever again. So I didn't exactly make it all the way back down to the bottom of the hill, but I did make it all the way down to the pavement from my might perch of ice-walker. That's right. I fell. Right on my hands and knees. The nice boy behind me asked if I was okay and I gave him a joke-it-off "haha yeah I'm fine" while I screamed in my head "HOW THE CRAP AM I SUPPOSED TO MAKE IT UP THIS DARNED HILL WITHOUT A SKI LIFT?????"
As if that wasn't bad enough, I fell again on Friday on my way out the door. In front of my own stupid house!!! Mine you, it rained Thursday afternoon, melted all the ice and turned everything to slush. But somebody decided it was a good idea to put a strip of ice on the sidewalk where the walkway from the front door meets the sidewalk. Right where one would make a 90' pivot to turn and walk down the street. My feet were gone from under me, I landed on both knees, slammed both hands to the ground and my backpack's momentum (continuing in a nice little arc from five feet up to ground level) brought my face within an inch of the wet pavement. It felt like I was going to try to do a somersault -- but something went horribly wrong :( I jumped back up to find my knees soaking wet and screaming in pain. Later in the day, I found a small dark brown spot on my jeans and found out it was blood. The freaking sidewalk drew blood!! So now my knees look like this and I'm royally ticked at the ice gods for this little stunt. But hey, battle wounds are cool right? And needless to say, I'll be walking a little more slowly until spring comes.
But at least I don't have it as bad as these poor people.
