UNLUCKY BREAK

So I got keys to my new home bright and early on an August Saturday morning. After I checked out the place with the renter, I started moving in my stuff immediately. Because I packed my car to the brim, literally, I ran out of towels and blankets to cushion pieces of furniture. I decided the next logical step was to use some of my sweatshirts and clothes, which happened to be a nice fit if I do say so myself. Since my clothes were all over the place, I thought it would be good to give them a wash. Plus, my closet doesn’t have any doors, so I want to keep things even more tidy than normal.

I went to go check out the laundry situation. My new roommate and I have to share the washer and dryer with a veteran who lives below us. I go down the stairs to basement which in the sunroom next to the kitchen. There was some extra shelving down there, which is great because I have a lot of stuff, and there is a door leading to the storage room with the laundry machine. I proceed to get my clothes and detergent together, throw them in the laundry basket, and start down the stairs. I’m almost at the bottom when WHAM! my ass meets the stairs.

I don’t even know what happened, but, yes, I fell down my basement stairs the very first day I lived in my new place. Not even a whole day had passed. Kinda sad. I know.

So how did this happen? I’m still wondering myself. Did I slip on some water or a banana peel? Nope. Did I lose all sense of balance in my body while carrying a laundry basket? I hope not. Am I a klutz? I don’t think so. Was it the magical combination of me practically running down some super dusty stairs wearing worn down flip-flops with no traction? Probably. I mean, what is the probability of this happening with any normal person (a.k.a. not me)? I would say 0.1, but with me, oh, about 1.0.

Somedays I really feel like Martin Short in Pure Luck. That day was like a summer during middle school all over again when I tripped on a sidewalk and broke my foot. Yes, you heard me right. I was spending month in the summer at my best friend’s in Antioch. We were just walking along and talking when I came across a sidewalk, a half sidewalk to be exact. I think I may have been chewing gum too which was a dangerous combination for me. I apparently didn’t lift my left foot high enough. My foot was bruised and hurt pretty bad. The next week I returned home for the summer and it still hurt. My dad thought that was weird and took me to the doctor. Turns out I not only fractured bones in my foot, but I broke some too. I wasn’t even cool enough to have a cast and crutches. I was forced to wear one of those super cool blue shoes even into the beginning of the school year. The only luck I had over that injury was the fact that the volleyball coaches had pity for me during tryouts so I made the team.

So did I get lucky with this injury? No way Jose. That shit hurt. After a week, I finally saw a doctor and the people at urgent care just thought I was drug-seeking despite the huge bruise and the x-ray results. If I were looking to do something in order to get drugs it really wouldn’t be breaking my ass. Hello - I work in a pharmacy. It still hurts every now and then, especially the days after I go on long runs.

This is why my friends, especially Logan, joke with me that I should have my own reality show. Original thoughts for the name would be “Unlucky,” which would be picked up by some network like The Discovery Channel or A&E. I think people would watch the show. I mean I would. Then it would pick up and become a cultural phenomenon like The Deadliest Catch or like a car crash you just can't take your eyes off of. Or maybe I should just live in a bubble. Anyway, at the next visit to my surgeon’s office, I mentioned this to the nurse. He, of course, laughed knowing my medical history and then suggested “Unlucky Break” since most of my injuries include broken bones and it has stuck with me ever since.

Quote: Life is not to fear. Life is to enjoy. – Third Eye Blind
Song: Someday We'll Know by Mandy Moore featuring Johnathan Foreman