A friend and I were talking once about the various perils you face when you live alone. She brought up the excellent point that she’s always been afraid of falling down in the shower because if she got injured, how would she call someone?
Well, no need to wonder what happens when you fall down in the shower, because I did that today, and lived to tell the tale. While taking a luxuriously long shower, I must have slipped on a wet spot (what isn’t wet?) and for a few seconds I just slided around, trying to grab onto something — anything — to prevent me from falling. Alas, that was not to be and I went down, complete with shaving gel and a razor. All I could think was “Oh my God, I’m going to break my arm and I’m going to have to call 9-1-1 and some hot paramedic is going to have to pick up my naked, broken body and that’s going to be pretty damn embarrassing. Kind of like that Sex and the City episode where Miranda screws up her neck after getting out of the shower and ends up laying naked on the floor, only to have Aiden come find her and have to deal with her naked self.
Luckily, I landed on my bad shoulder, which was dislocated in college due to a disagreement I got into with my bike. That shoulder’s been a little off ever since, so it really was the perfect appendage to land on since it tends to bounce back easier due to previous traumas.
I’m beginning to think this really isn’t my week. But at least the humor of the situation made me feel better about this cold I’m fighting.