On Falling

My new living situation is interesting.  And by interesting, I mean challenging.

My roommate, bless her scattered little heart, leaves food on the counter for a couple of days.  Then it gets lost in the fridge for a few weeks.  Then, if we’re all lucky, she digs it out of the fridge and throws it into the trash.  A day later, the trash bag comes out of the bin and gets set on the floor, where it will sit for another 24+ hours.

I have a dog with more sass than sense.  She normally keeps to the upstairs portions of the house with me, but my attention span is imperfect.  You can imagine what happens next.

The dog mysteriously gets a vicious case of food poisoning.  She craps from one end of the house to the other.  It’s coming out of both ends.  If it didn’t stink so bad, it would almost be impressive.

After extensive cleanup, we go to bed.

The next morning, I wander my spaces sniffing for any hint of dog booty.  It all seems safe, so I rush to get her downstairs and out in case she’s been holding her bowls valiantly.  Down the stairs I go in my flip flops and a pull-on dress.  I get to the third step from the bottom and, with no transition between being upright and dying on my back, I fall.  It is a spectacular fall precipitated by hitting a patch of dog-sick at the bottom of the stairs at speed.

And I’m laying there on the stairs, struggling to breathe, trying to wrap my mind around the pain – as if by intellectualizing it, I might be able to compartmentalize it and work it through one compartment at a time.

Laying there, I found myself thinking “forget moving, no philosopher ever fell down the stairs with his/her philosophy intact.”

It still hurts, incidentally.  Mostly on my ribs.  The bruise on my tailbone seems to have worked itself out.

Which is part, but not all of why I’ve been silent.  There’s been a lot going on at work too.  I’ve been building content there, and lots of it, and frankly, there just hasn’t been that much to say.  Finding a philosophical approach gives you something to talk about it, but living it is devoid of interest.  Sometimes it’s about as interesting as listening to someone repeat a mantra for hours at a time.  Please let me do as logically as I can think.

Which might not be much of an aspiration.

On Falling

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s