Clumsy.

I didn't choose the clumsy life, the clumsy life chose me.

Embracing the clumsy.

I admit I'm clumsy and apparently there's nothing to do about it. I'm not saying I googled "how to un-be clumsy", but I guess there's actually nothing to do about it. 

Okay, so I've just googled it. The steps include "Reduce anxiety" so, no, there's no "cure".

So how's the clumsy life actually? Spoiler: it's hard!

I trip all the time. Rugs, shoe laces, you name it. 

I bump my knees and elbows everywhere everyday. If my knees and elbows sued me, I wouldn't be surprised. All of this results in, of course, bruises and cuts. Not very pretty.

Cutting and burning myself while cooking is also very common. And with my sensitive skin, it gets even more dramatic, you don't want to know. This is why I own a lot of band-aid and I have to have some in my wallet all the time. I hate leaving my cuts exposed, because, again, sensitive skin. Sometimes I even find mysterious cuts and bruises and can't wrap my mind around how and when I got them.

Having coffee while walking isn't for me, I should be legally banned. Because every time I spill it. Every single time. Whether on myself or (hopefully) on the floor. And if the coffee's still hot, some burns happen. Great...! I have a jacket that was ruined because of a mocca stain that surprisingly got too "attached" to it and refused to leave even after many washes. 

During my lifetime, I fell off chairs stairs, I tripped over staircases. I've accidentally hit hundreds of people in the streets, metro station and simply everywhere. Sometimes I get tired of apologizing and I pretend nothing happened.  

This is pretty much how being clumsy feels like, in addition to the laughter of the audience. Delightful. 

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