I am not a really frou-frou kinda girl.
You are more likely to catch me without makeup and my hair pulled up into a ponytail than you are to find my face and hair perfectly done.
When I go out to eat, You can bet that I will spill more food on my shirt than my 5 year old.
Yesterday solidified my awkward, dorky, unrefined status.
I managed to sprain my hand picking up a hammer.
Just picking it up!
Not whacking away on something hard with it.
Not pounding in several hundred nails into hard wood.
Nope... Just picking it up.
We went to pick up the Man-of-My-Dreams' new truck.
We had to sit and wait for what seemed like hours for them to inspect and detail the Macho-Truck.
You know those BRIGHT yellow cement posts that they put around buildings to dumb people won't run into the wall with their cars?
Those 4-foot-tall BRIGHT yellow posts?
Yeah, well... First I ran smack dab into one!
Head on! No, not in my car... But with my body!
Brilliant! I played it off and hoped than no one noticed as I limped inside.
Then, as we were standing in the office waiting for our shiny new keys,
I fell off of the side of my shoe and sprained my ankle.
I was wearing flat shoes!
I didn't have on hoochie-mamma 7-inch high heels.
I was wearing perfectly safe flat shoes!
I wasn't rushing down a flight of stairs.
I was standing in place on a flat, carpeted surface!
Yes, the Man-of-My-Dreams was home and with me to witness me in all of my sophisticated glory. I wonder why he wouldn't let me drive the new truck home...
More soon... if I don't kill myself first!
The Best Broccoli Salad In The World EVER!
2 years ago