Life is Like Falling Down The Stairs...

I start at the top of the stairs and everything is fine. Normal. Nothing out of the ordinary, but for some reason my feet don’t understand where we are. They over step their required space of operations. Alarms blare and my gut gets the memo before my brain does.

My leg flies out in front of me and because of this sudden movement my other leg collapses and follows suit. My right hip slams the edge of the step and my hands are waving like they just don’t care.

An involuntary “OPE!” escapes my lips followed by a series of “ACK!” and “EEK!” as I slip and tumble in the most convoluted contortions that, in any other scenario, might be cause for concern.

My head, still trying to figure out what is happening, makes nice with the railing while my hands are still trying to find it. My elbow finds the wall and the force is enough to shift my position so I am now falling tail over teakettle over my own shoulders.

As my legs flail in the air, one catches the railing and the other swings around like a tether ball. Spinning around again my hand finally finds the railing and…why did I let go?

Because my mind still hasn’t realized something is wrong. Its totally blank as I do another flip and land spectacularly on the landing. The world teeters slightly and I only then realize that I hurt.

Doing a quick check to make sure nothing is broken, I laugh slightly and stand up. Brushing myself off I take a few deep breaths and bless the fact that no one saw.

I turn the corner to continue down the second flight of stairs and then remember I left my keys upstairs. Mumbling to myself that I may as well be institutionalized, I make my way back up the stairs I had just cleverly descended.

Only my feet, again, forgot how high the steps are.

My left foot catches the seventh step, and true to the chain of command, the information stops at the heart in my throat.

My knees skin the edge of the steps while my hands try to figure out weather they should cover and protect my face or look for the railing. The result being that the hand furthest away from the railing starts to look for a handhold and the other hand covers my face.

As I slide back down the stairs, I hold my breath as if that was going to help in some way.

Then I just stay there. Face down on the stairs.

And my mind finally gets the memo: “Hey, I’m falling.”