I did something really stupid today and I'm going to be paying for it over the next week or more. I knew it was stupid before I even tried it. Heh! I knew it was stupid before I even thought about doing it. But, I did it any way.
Why? Because I'm stubbornly independent.
Yep. That's a huge shock to no one who has ever met me. And this time it got me into a very tight spot.
Literally. And if you know me, you know I'm pretty claustrophobic.
So, the good news is that nothing of physical reality is broken. Yes, this could have wreaked havoc in a lot of departments. But for the grace of God, the physical realities are still as they were, or nearly so at least: there will be bruises. Many bruises.
What is shattered is my ego.
Hah! Big deal, you say, I needed to be knocked down a few steps anyway!
Sure, but did it need to be the whole flight of attic stairs? Really?
So, my bike has been in the attic since last Fall when I put it on my "spin machine" for cold weather use. I've been meaning to get Dan to help me get it out, but we've been busy. So this morning, I decided (after Dan left for the office) that I would just take it down myself. A full size touring bike down a 24" wide set of 9" and less deep, twisting steps. Let's just say the bike decided it was going to hang on the the rail at the top and not go down with me. But momentum kept me going down past it, and down the steps to that tiny spot at the bottom of the steps where they fan out to make a 90* turn toward that closed 24" door at the bottom.
I sat for a few moments to be sure I could still account for my brain. Then I carefully wiggled each finger and toe. When I was sure I could still move each joint, I attempted to stand up. But alas, I was stuck with my derriere wedged between the door and the second step, and my legs and feet on the third and fourth steps. No hand rail to grab. The door knob would not suffice since it was above my knee and out of reach. I was stuck. In a very tight spot.
Yes, I did eventually figure out the geometric formula for extricating myself from this conundrum. How else would I be writing this?!
And when I texted Dan to tell him of this great feat of finesse, his response was this:
....Remember that only the kitties have an accounting of this episode. Who knows -- purrhaps they will write a gospel one day and this story will be at the core of their gospel and many will follow.And they shall call it, "The Great Fall of Human - ity"
Something rings oddly true in that.
Yes, I really am fine. But three things I have culled from this experience: This body is no longer 21 years old. Or 31. Or 41. Or..... Ask for help. Riding the bike is overrated. That's my truth and I'm sticking to it. :-p
