Bending down to pick something up off the floor is the worst thing that can happen to me right now, yet I’m clumsier than I’ve even been in my entire life.
It’s true. Dropping something these days causes my heart to leap into my throat as I realize, holy fuck, now I have to figure out how to bend over and pick that up. This is particularly the case when I drop something in public, but even in the privacy of my own home it’s enough to induce a string of cursing so profane it could melt the ears off a sailor.
You see not only is bending over a very painful and awkward thing to do with this big 32 week belly in the way, it also disrupts the delicate balance of the state of any clothing I might be wearing at the time. Pants fall down, shirts lift up, boobs fall out all over the place. It’s horrifying to live through and even more horrifying to witness, I’m sure. I HATE it.
The other day I considered just leaving my iPod behind when I accidentally dropped it on the bus. I swear. I was like, I’d totally sacrifice that thing just to not have to bend down right now. Thankfully a lovely teenage boy picked it up for me. And didn’t try to steal it. Probably because it’s bright pink and had Britney Spears blaring out of it, but whatever.
The dropping stuff issue is a serious problem right now because for some reason I have lost all control over my own hands and fingers. I suppose it has something to do with the swelling? My fingers look like 10 little raw breakfast sausages and bending them to get a good grip on something is a major chore. I’m continually dropping stuff for no reason what-so-ever. I’ll be applying mascara and the wand just falls right out of my hand, usually bouncing off my boobs and ruining whatever outfit I’m wearing on its way down. Queue the cursing. I grab something out of the fridge and attempt to put it on the counter only to have it drop right out of my hand and splatter all over the kitchen floor. Awesome.
I should note that while dropping things is particularly frustrating, because it seemingly could be avoided if I hadn’t somehow suddenly erased 32-years of practice with my own digits, there are other things that I dread doing now:
Getting something out of my sock drawer, as this requires bending down and rummaging around until I find the right pair.
Picking and putting down the dog’s water bowl, or filling is bowl with food.
Picking up the dog for any reason, he’s squirmy and low to the ground.
Picking up the dog’s shit, again, requires ample bending, in public and let’s face it, nobody likes picking up another creature’s shit.
Putting on boots or shoes especially if tying laces is required.
Throwing things in the garbage because I always miss hence more bending.
It’s true. Dropping something these days causes my heart to leap into my throat as I realize, holy fuck, now I have to figure out how to bend over and pick that up. This is particularly the case when I drop something in public, but even in the privacy of my own home it’s enough to induce a string of cursing so profane it could melt the ears off a sailor.
You see not only is bending over a very painful and awkward thing to do with this big 32 week belly in the way, it also disrupts the delicate balance of the state of any clothing I might be wearing at the time. Pants fall down, shirts lift up, boobs fall out all over the place. It’s horrifying to live through and even more horrifying to witness, I’m sure. I HATE it.
The other day I considered just leaving my iPod behind when I accidentally dropped it on the bus. I swear. I was like, I’d totally sacrifice that thing just to not have to bend down right now. Thankfully a lovely teenage boy picked it up for me. And didn’t try to steal it. Probably because it’s bright pink and had Britney Spears blaring out of it, but whatever.
The dropping stuff issue is a serious problem right now because for some reason I have lost all control over my own hands and fingers. I suppose it has something to do with the swelling? My fingers look like 10 little raw breakfast sausages and bending them to get a good grip on something is a major chore. I’m continually dropping stuff for no reason what-so-ever. I’ll be applying mascara and the wand just falls right out of my hand, usually bouncing off my boobs and ruining whatever outfit I’m wearing on its way down. Queue the cursing. I grab something out of the fridge and attempt to put it on the counter only to have it drop right out of my hand and splatter all over the kitchen floor. Awesome.
I should note that while dropping things is particularly frustrating, because it seemingly could be avoided if I hadn’t somehow suddenly erased 32-years of practice with my own digits, there are other things that I dread doing now:
Getting something out of my sock drawer, as this requires bending down and rummaging around until I find the right pair.
Picking and putting down the dog’s water bowl, or filling is bowl with food.
Picking up the dog for any reason, he’s squirmy and low to the ground.
Picking up the dog’s shit, again, requires ample bending, in public and let’s face it, nobody likes picking up another creature’s shit.
Putting on boots or shoes especially if tying laces is required.
Throwing things in the garbage because I always miss hence more bending.
I could go on, but I think you get my point. It's getting to the point where any or all of these tasks requires some form of assistance, or me getting down on all fours in order to perform whatever "pick up" is necessary at the time. Not so convenient. Especially on the bus during rush hour.
No comments:
Post a Comment