Rhymes With Walls...

 

dress: thrifted blouse: thrifted  shoes: JC Penny

You know the feeling of trying to do just a little bit more than your puny little cerebellum can handle. Like trying to talk on the phone while typing, or trying to listen to a conversation while you read,dare I say... it's impossible! It makes me feel like all of the little circuits in my cranium might explode. Yet I keep on trying...just to see if maybe just maybe this time I can do it. 

There's always been one thing though that I always think I can handle but turns out disastrous every time. Talking on the phone and riding my bike.

But you see, my need to talk on the phone to leave Sir Matt a message was dire this time, absolutely critical! of the utmost importance!

So there I was, leaving Sir Matt a message on the phone with one hand, and awkwardly steering myself on my bike through a crowd of people on campus. All of the sudden this girl turns right in front of me...just straight up zigs her zags. I braked as fast as I could, but my only free hand happened to be on the front brake, and I just may have launched myself straight off of my bike. I fumble, I groan, I let out this nasty little word of mine that is sooooo not something I should say but just happens to fly out of my mouth any time I'm stressed...or angry...or feeling obnoxious. (You want to know what it is now don't you, how I started saying this word in dire situations is another story, please ask me about it sometime!), anyways, back to the falling, so I'm on the ground and then I look around and see that at least fifteen people watched me fall off my bike and yell this terrible word of mine (okay okay I'll give you a hint, it rhymes with halls, DON'T HATE ME MOM!). Ughhhh whhhyyyy must I be so clumsy! I'm cursed I tell you, cursed!!!

So anyways, I get up to go home, tell myself to remember that I'll probably never see any of these people again. But still I'm feeling all shaky from the adrenaline rush and like maybe I just might start sobbing.

So finally I make it home, walk in the door and Sir Matt's just laughing at me. The whole fall was recorded in the message I was trying to leave him. OH THE EMBARRASSMENT! It went something like this.

 "Guess what! I saw the creepiest mustache man on campus today....ahhh what is she doing...ffdjksalf;djskdjsakl... AH *ALLS! ughhhoooohhh. Oh that hurt."

Needless to say he deleted it out of pity for me, what a gent.

Moral of the story? I'm a clutz and have also probably done some serious damage to my ovaries.

The End.