Maybe if Mom had let me be in ballet growing up.  Maybe if I was slightly more coordinated.  Maybe if I paid a little more attention.  Maybe if I didn’t wear wooden-soled 4-inch heels.

This morning’s been a little rainy.  Joey and I were running late because we slept in a bit; he’s been feeling sniffly and pathetic for two days.  (Me making him upchuck his vitamins did not help.)  Jeeves went off at 6:30 instead of 6:00, and I picked out a very fallish outfit, complete with brown stockings and my brown suede heels.

I hadn’t worn them in about a year.

I remembered why as we were walking down the steps, the brown suede heels are wooden-soled and make a ton of noise.  It’s embarrassing.

The rain was really coming down as we drove in, and Joey pulled me up right by the front door, a very sweet effort to preserve my hair which I appreciated quite a bit.  I gave him a butterfly kiss (Joey prefers to avoid lipstick shimmers, please and thank you) and darted inside.

The fact I should walk slowly because it was rainy and my wooden-soled shoes were wet on the highly polished marble floor did not cross my mind.

UNTIL.

UNTIL I began to slide, kind of comically like in a cartoon.  First my right leg went out from under me, but I quickly adjusted with my left.  But that adjustment caused my left leg to shoot out in front of me, and I felt like I was in cheerleading all over again.  I went down fast, kind of in an awkward splits motion, but somehow slamming my knees into that highly polished marble as I went.

And to ice the cake, my elbows buckled from under me and I face-planted, smearing lipstick shimmers into the already-shiny marble.

Oh, did I mention I’m wearing a skirt?  I AM.  We are not even going there, because you will all have to poke your eyes out if we do.

Quick as a wink, I darted up off the floor and noticed that yes, people had seen me do that.  People that I know. They were all ARE YOU OK?! and talked to me the entire way up the elevator, mostly because I could tell they felt sorry for me.

But nothing was hurt except my pride.  That was definitely bruised.

And thus I say to you: Happy Friday.  May you keep yourself upright today and behave with more decorum than I seem to be able to pull off.