Forks on me or how I flung my iced coffee across the sidewalk

It all started with a fork. It was sitting there, innocently minding it’s business while I ate hummus with raw vegetables. Somehow I flipped it off the hightop table to the ground. While I was picking it up, my other fork committed suicide to join the first one. #romeoandjuliet

Later that evening there was a missed 2 inch step, and a body hurtling toward a door after successfully ascending and descending 3 flights of stairs in 5 inch platform heels. #onlyaklutz

The next day, miles of walking in flip flops. Walking up to Rite-Aid, didn’t see the curb and landed right (bad) knee first, then other knee and hands. Yes. Face plant with a nearly full iced coffee. Knee throbbing all I could say was, “I need more coffee”, repeatedly. #addictmuch

Later the same afternoon, after walking a total of 6 miles in flip flops, climbing the infamous 3 flights again, I stumble, fall, steady myself and grab her leg like a walker in a zombie flick. “Sorry K,” I manage while laughing hysterically. She says “Are you sure you don’t have a neurological disorder? “. Personally, I’m starting to wonder. #whatiswrongwithme

Same afternoon. I don’t even have my own plate of food, I’m sharing from two. And I send her fork flying to the ground. Not mine. Hers. At this point it looks intentional. Or at least forks are very very afraid of me. As am I. #iamdangerous



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