10.19.2004
1:57 p.m.
Psychic stylist and OUCH
I love the way my hair stylist and I seem to have some sort of psychic connection. Last night during my hair cut, I kept thinking about asking her if she could cut my bangs a bit shorter than she normally does. I never ended up asking her, but she did it anyway.
She rocks. And that's why she will have my undying devotion for years and years to come.
(My hair looks freaking CUTE today.)
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Last night after returning home from my hair cut, I started down the stairs to the basement with plastic bag in hand, on my way to clean out the cats' litter boxes. Somehow, the heel of my left shoe (I think) caught the carpet of one step, and I lost my footing. I fell down about 3 stairs before I finally grabbed onto the ledge of the wall that exists along the right side of the stairs, and stopped myself. OUCH. I then spent the rest of the night feeling like I had been either hit by a truck, or rear-ended by it, thereby creating pain that felt like full-body whiplash.
I thought two things after this happened (Well, three if you count the repetitive swearing):
-Why did we never replace the railing to the stairs after we managed to squeeze the big screen TV through there?
and
-Time to switch birth control pills, because the PMS-related accidents are getting worse, and eventually I might end up dead due to some stupid clutzy move.
Yeah. After those two thoughts, I also thought, "You know what? If I did actually fall down the stairs and perhaps even knock myself unconscious, it would be about 26 hours before anyone found me." That's another crappy thing about my husband traveling so much. (That, and not being able to change certain burned-out lightbulbs in our house because I can't reach them, even with a chair.) Maybe I need to invest in one of those Life Alert things. Especially with as graceful as I've been lately.
*sigh*
Listening to: the stream of crappy and/or odd songs going through my head
Reading: Waking Beauty by Elyse Friedman
Feeling: a bit sore
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