It's been three weeks since our first date, and George and I are still going strong. It's almost a new record for me. We haven't even fought yet.
The man is very even-tempered, as opposed to me.
I'm erratic. My intense emotions run wild, and I do kinda dance like
Elaine too. [He hasn't seen my dance moves yet. Thankfully.]
"Can I do anything to help?" I asked.
"Yeah, you can go ahead and get some plates for us."
"No problem. Where are they?"
"They're in the right side cabinet above the microwave."
"Okay," I replied. I stepped towards the kitchen when BAMM! My face smashed against the screen. {Fortunately, he hadn't closed the sliding glass door. But that leaves me no excuse for not seeing a screen.}
"Are you okay?" he asked, concerned, checking my head.
"Oh, yeah, I'm fine," not really, probably not. I'm embarrassed, so, yeah, everything's cool. We agreed I'd be of most help if I stay seated. So I did, and dinner was delicious. We ignored the fact that I'd knocked the screen off-track.
The other day, I was viewing an apartment because I have to move out. (That's another story, and a source of stress right now. I'll be relocating during the holidays.) A cute contractor was making final repairs in the dining area, and the landlord stood nearby, between the living room and dining room. I walked towards the sliding glass door in the living room -- not processing the fact that it was a sliding glass doo-- K'BOOM! My forehead met with the glass as I attempted to take in the view.
"Oh no, are you okay?" the landlord asked.
I laughed. "Oh, yeah, I'm fine. Just embarrassed. I'm sorry." I looked at the glass and saw that I hadn't cracked it. "I'm glad I didn't break anything."
The cute contractor shared a story and facial scar from a similar incident.
That evening, I said to George, "You know those helmets that kids wear when they have special needs and do the head-banging thing? I need one of those."
George suggested, instead, that I simply slow down, take my time with things.
Perhaps we all should slow down. At least for a moment, before we start rushing again.
On that note, I hope you have a slow-paced weekend and new week. xo
Sometimes the slow way is the way to go. But if that fails, you could fill in for those birds on the Windex commercials lmao
ReplyDeleteI've run into sliding doors and screens too, when they don't have anything to show it's there. I'm usually focusing on a point beyond. . .
ReplyDeleteBe careful, moving a little slower is a good idea.
Birds on the Windex adverts. Hahahah, that's funny Pat Hatt.
ReplyDeleteFunny post, Robyn. I'm behind on your goings on so I don't know if this a real story or made up fun?
Do tell?
It's true, HW, as are all of my stories, sadly.
ReplyDeleteAs a fellow klutz I empathise to the max. I throw my food and drinks around too (often onto myself).
ReplyDeleteYay for an even tempered George. Fingers and toes crossed.
And good luck with the move.
Try waking up at 5 AM with a roaring hangover, the kind that every breath carries the threat of nausea and every move is a headache of its own, stagger back to your bedroom from the bathroom and walk into the bedroom door edge on. With your eyes closed. That's when you realize that all those stars and planets that Elmer Fudd saw when the anvil hit weren't made up.
ReplyDeleteI love your posts, Robyn! I wish you lived closer or I lived closer. It would be fun to have an interesting friend like you.
ReplyDeleteAnd yes, slowing down certainly doesn't hurt :)
My father walked into a sliding glass door and required stitches on his knee - it happens!
ReplyDeleteOMG! I bet I would win in a head banging contest. I am the worst at running into glass doors. And poles. And regular doors. My momma always asked "What's wrong with you!?" Well, now we know :)
ReplyDeleteGlad to hear that things are progressing well with George! Moving is a pain in the ass, though. Condolences.
ReplyDeleteIt's an easy mistake to make, Robyn. Glass these days is so clear and transparent - why can't they give it an amber tint? Glad things are going well with Georgie!
ReplyDeleteGeorge sounds like a nice guy.
ReplyDeleteOh, Robyn! You're adorable. Your life sounds like a sitcom. Hell, my life sounds like a sitcom.
ReplyDeleteLOL I do that stuff too. Everyone tells me to slow down and watch what I'm doing but I barrel ahead anyway. Sorry to hear you have to move!!!
ReplyDeleteGeorge sounds like a sweetheart. You and I are meant to just sit and be served I think. Something you may not know (although I have a feeling you've got experience): If you crawl under a table to pick something up, you should crawl back out before you stand up. Ditto the fireplace mantel. Concussions are very inconvenient.
ReplyDeleteIndeed, George sounds like the right guy - slow and steady influence. Oh Robyn, I'd be walking into the doors with you - trust me. Klutzy is my middle name, but no stitches yet. Take care and have a sloooowwww weekend.
ReplyDeletewe old folk have nothing but slow paced weekends :)
ReplyDeleteI'm a natural born clutz and I've tried slowing down. It doesn't seem to matter. I can still manage to careen into the wall of a ten foot wide hallway.
ReplyDeleteI've never walked into a sliding glass door, but I have walked into the screen door when the glass door was open. Hey, it was nighttime. I couldn't see the screen! haha
ReplyDeleteClumsy and I are far too well acquainted...
ReplyDeleteYay for things going well with George... amazing what candy-coated erotica will accomplish, innit! I empathise with the moving woes, it always sucks.
I'm getting good feelings about your George.
ReplyDeleteYou're all so kind to share similar stories. It makes me feel a lot better.
ReplyDeleteMitchell, I appreciate the warning. But I've never been injured when standing back up under a table or fireplace mantel. It's not because I'm careful to not stand back up until I crawl out. It's because I'm really, really short. LOL.
CW, I don't trust myself to get drunk, so I'm glad to have not seen the solar system that way.
Martha, it'd be great fun to go for drinks. If you were lucky, you'd see me run into the bar, as in literally run into a bar at the bar.
Keep a smile, dear friends. xo
By George I like him! Sounds like he might be the window to your soul. Stay safe, my friend!
ReplyDeleteJulie
Hey, I had a television chase me down the steps once.
ReplyDeleteBut, that's a story for another day.
By the way, I won.
When I was 8, I was in California making my wake back to our hotel. I was preoccupied tearing up a leaf I'd picked up. Once I'd finished I threw all the pieces up in the air and as my arm was in the air, and I watched the pieces fly away, I walked flush into the glass front door of the hotel. A group of teenage girls behind me fell about laughing. To this day, I haven't been able to look a girl in the eye again ;)
ReplyDelete"Life by Chocolate" has been included in our A Sunday Drive for this week. Be assured that we hope this helps to point even more new visitors in your direction.
ReplyDeletehttp://asthecrackerheadcrumbles.blogspot.com/2014/11/a-sunday-drive_23.html
Hey Chocogirl. Or would that be Chicogirl?
ReplyDeleteJust missing you and seeing what's up. I need to slow down myself, but things aren't letting up enough to breathe just yet. Eventually.
But...it's great to come over and see that you've actually MET someone. And that he's REAL. ;)
Hang something pretty on the glass door so you can see it. A mirror. :)
Nice to meet you - visiting from Jerry's blog. Catherine
ReplyDeleteI have yet to meet someone who has not done something similar:) I walked into a screen door once and felt like that pattern was still on my face 5 hours later. With all the things I have done ( recently going to work with a hole in my pants for all to see) I don't feel embarrassed too much any more
ReplyDeleteMany years ago I was a passenger in a friend's car. She went over a bump, my head hit the windshield, and it cracked--the windshield, not my head. My head was already cracked.
ReplyDeleteLove,
Janie
Oh dear and ouch! This sounds like something I would do. Glad it was mostly your pride that was injured. George sounds like a nice guy. :)
ReplyDeleteGeorge sounds like a keeper. Sorry you have to move, but maybe you'll end up somewhere you love. Good luck hunting for it! :)
ReplyDeleteListen to George! :) I'm a clutz as well. I fell last night, tripped over my own feet. Not a pretty sight, funny, but not a pretty sight. :)
ReplyDeleteI have walked into a many a sliding-glass door. Thank goodness there's no YouTube evidence. I love your snippets from your life :)
ReplyDeleteI hope your head is all healed up. ;)
ReplyDeleteDon't feel too bad. My hubby walked into a glass wall at a car dealership. We helped him best we could once we stopped laughing at him.
And, my friend's hubby walked into the screen door so fast he had a screen burn on top of his bald head. Again, we assisted when we were done laughing at him.
So the stories ARE true?! I thought this was your alter-ego :-)
ReplyDeleteAh, you know your life is interesting when people ask if your stories are real. I've never questioned them. But then again, I have stuff like this happen to me, too, and no one ever believes that our stories over at our are true.
ReplyDeleteI will, however, not be slowing down. Pass me the biggest helmet you can find, please. I'm pretty susceptible to spotless glass doors as well.
Next time you see a screen door, you should give it a pass.
ReplyDeleteScreen...pass. Hey, I made a funny.
Thank you, fellow klutzes. That's why we get along so well. My initial instinct, no matter the pain, is to laugh heartily at myself. It's a mask for the embarrassment. xo
ReplyDeleteI am a bit klutzy, too. I keep hoping I'll meet a guy who finds that endearing rather than... (insert word). Sounds like George might be that guy:)
ReplyDeleteGood luck with your move and SLOW DOWN!
PS I said it's all true, but my IWSG interviews aren't real. I did have someone stop by and comment about how lucky I was to interview Gwyneth Paltrow. I invited her to purchase tickets for the next show. Smiles. XO
ReplyDeleteHa ha Ha ha ha I did that at my sisters before. Kind Of embarrassing, to say the least.
ReplyDeleteOh man. Lol You had a string of bad luck. Your poor head. That is not fun. Sorry you have to move!
ReplyDelete