Y’all.  I’m 90 years old.  I totally rocked a slip-and-fall today.

I was just trying to walk into work. There wasn’t even a curb that tripped me or anything.  I had 3 bowls (2 empty, one filled with corn dip) stacked in my left hand, my purse, my keys and a grocery bag in my right hand.  I started walking towards the office when the tower of bowls started to wobble a bit.  I shifted all of my focus to my left hand, trying desperately to keep my glass bowls from breaking in the parking lot, and to keep my corn dip from being slung through the air at top speeds.

Then, somehow, I was on the ground.  It happened that fast.  I was upright, the bowls were tipping, I was on the ground.  My right foot was burning with the same pain one feels when they acquire a sizeable strawberry/road rash, and my corn dip (and its tightly secured plastic wrap, still in tact) was thankfully still right-side-up.

The most geriatric part of it all, though, was that when I was looking around the parking lot after slamming into the ground, it wasn’t to make sure that someone didn’t see me.  It was because I couldn’t believe that our never-empty parking lot was totally deserted when I was in such desperate need of someone to help me get off the ground.  For about 10 seconds, I really understood the reason someone might wear the Medical Alert necklaces.  Soon after, I landed back in reality, remembered that I’m still just 26, got up and brushed myself off and went inside.  The only lasting injury to mourn was some dirt ground into the top of my shoe.