I've always been pretty klutzy.
I remember writing one of my college essays my klutziness, particularly one time where I slammed the washing machine door on my hand and how much it hurt.
During the many beach weeks my friends and I took after graduation, I remember tearing my foot open after stepping on a piece of luggage, gettign a bloody nose from a surly wakeboard, and taking a flying football to the face while lounging on the beach, Marsha-Marsha-Marsha style. (Okay, that injury wasn't a result of my clumsiness, but still.)
The stuff I've been reading as I progress each week in my pregnancy have warned me of potential instability due to a growing belly throwing off my center of gravity. What I read recommended avoiding wearing heels, even. (A few days after I read all that, the earthquake hit. I thought that was kind of ironic.) But I try not to get too wrapped up in all that stuff as it seems there are approximately 672 potential side effects to pregnancy.
Not too wrapped up until I ran into the door jam of J's office the other night. Smack into it. Seriously. Luckily, I didn't seriously hurt myself but man, apparently some of those side effects are true! Now I can add loss of balance to (warning: possibly TMI): nose bleeds, nasal congestion, back aches, nausea, vomiting, fatigue, dry eyes, heightened sense of smell, tender breasts, mood swings, irritability, and extra saliva, among others.
Oh, and J and I took a bike ride a few weekends ago and I fell off on the first leg. Literally toppled over. Embarassing!
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