Either I’m Clumsy Or Jesus Has A Sick Sense Of Humor

It all started with an innocent Facebook post. I feel like most bad stories in life start that way. It all started with an innocent Facebook post and………..now my great aunt Shirley won’t talk to me. It all started with an innocent Facebook post and………..I ended up on the latest episode of Catfish. It all started with an innocent Facebook quote and……….I somehow ended up in an online Tupperware party.


The innocent Facebook post that started it all.

Funny, right? I’m clumsy. I have a bum leg. Falling is always a possibility for me. Having just turned 45, I’m in the age bracket that would most likely have folks panicking when I fall. I posted this never imagining just a few days later it would be put to the test.

Let me set the scene: A wretched rainstorm was rolling in one late afternoon. Miserable, achy, and exhausted from two straight days of cleaning and painting our new place we had one last chore to do before heading back to our apartment to eat a dinner that was a little more substantial than tortilla chips and beef jerky.

Since I was the only one with a raincoat on I volunteered to roll the two gigantic garbage cans up the steep driveway to the curb. I successfully maneuvered the first can up the north face of Everest and did it without supplemental oxygen, thank you very much. As the rain picked up I ran down the grab the last can. I didn’t make it three steps before I tripped and headed straight for the pavement below scraping my knees, hands, and face in the process.

It’s possible I’m just clumsy. It’s actually quite likely because I am very clumsy. But I kinda think Jesus read my Facebook post and decided to test the theory because I’m thinking Jesus has a really good sense of humor. He also answers prayers because I have begged him to get me out of having to do anything during this move and BLAM, message received and answered.

According to my husband, my fall was not graceful. Personally, I thought it was a pretty damn fantastic fall. Sure enough, though, no one laughed and my husband came running. So, it’s certain. I am old. Theory tested and confirmed by an actual deity.

Bloodied, bruised, ego squashed, I headed back home and climbed into a hot bath. The next morning I woke up sore. My left wrist, having taken the brunt of the fall, was the most sore. When I checked WebMD it was decided that I either had a sprained wrist or I was dying. I was a Girl Scout once, so I think I’m more than qualified to determine that I was not, in fact, dying and only had a sprained wrist. I took some Aleve, iced it, then wrapped it up nice and snug with an ACE bandage, and put myself to bed.


The Spider-Man Boo Boo Buddy is medically necessary. The cat’s judgement is not.

That’s when there was a knock on the door. The last time there was a knock on the door it was the police telling me my neighbors downstairs thought my very existence was too noisy. I was in need of an idea for another blog post so I decided to answer the door hoping it was the cops again. It wasn’t. Just a lovely young woman wearing a skirt in 35°F weather inviting me to celebrate Jesus’ death.


Is it just me or do they look like they’re having an arm wrestling competition?

And I was all like, thanks but no thanks, and I crumpled up Jesus’ invitation and threw it in the round file and went in search of some trash TV. Nothing was on except for The Kardashians and even I can’t stomach that nonsense, so I kept scrolling and scrolling and came upon the most ridiculous movie title I’ve ever encountered: Christian Mingle The Movie, which gets a Rotten Tomatoes score of a whopping 27%.

Well, this should be freaking hilarious! 

And it was. Well, the ten minutes I was able to tolerate was pretty ridiculous. See, Jesus does have a sick sense of humor! I knew it! I think the best part of the movie was the fact that Gretchen Wieners, daughter of the inventor of Toaster Streudel, played the lead character. And she was totally wearing gold hoops even though Regina George told her she couldn’t wear them.giphy1

Which then led me to wonder what happened to poor Gretchen Wieners that she had to take a job on a hokey religious RomCom. Which then led me to take a Buzzfeed quiz that would determine whether I was more Gretchen Wieners or Karen Smith. Obviously I am more Gretchen Wieners because I am way smarter than the girl that thinks her boobs can predict the weather.

Interesting side note: I’m pretty sure my boobs did keep me from hitting my face harder on the pavement, so that’s cool. 

But turns out I’m Karen Smith, which is either super disappointing or just another one of Jesus’s jokes. That guy! Always trying to be funny!


Yeah. Duh!

*Featured image courtesy of Pixabay