Come Crash Into Me

This was, I think, karma for taking three-hour long lunch breaks. Heehee.

Diane, Eloise and I were coming back from lunching at Super Bowl and parked our ride in front of our building. Since it was raining very hard we decided to just run for it; the foyer was really only a short distance from the parking lot. I think I only sprinted about three meters before slipping on the cement.

You know what's funny about slipping? There's this millisecond when you're in denial about it: I'm not really slipping, this is just my hyperactive imagination! Then you hit ground and you have to accept that fact. Fortunately, no one else except my friends was there to see me in my Funniest Home Videos moment ; unfortunately, it was a pretty bad fall and I injured myself quite nicely. I have cuts on both my hands, an eight-inch gash and a wound on my left forearm (collectively looking like a sinister exclamation point), and several abrasions on my left leg. My hip was aching a bit so I had to go home early and also absent myself the next day.

I've had my share of these little accidents already, so this is just another entry in my logbook. I once slipped on the stairs of the S&H building in high school, and also once in the parking lot underneath Eastwood, plus the numerous knee injuries I incurred in grade school when we would play langit-lupa during recess. The most embarrassing so far was early in college, in Philcoa on the way to a friend's birthday party. We were scrambling for a bus ride and I slipped yet again. One second I was running, the next second I was lying perfectly flat on the bus lane. Aiiieee, the mortification.

The culprits, in retrospect, are my favorite denim Chucks, whose soles I've worn to almost nothing, and my refusal to always carry an umbrella.