Don't Call Me "Grace"

I've never been exactly coordinated.  I'm the gal who can trip on nothing.  No, not my own feet - Nothing!  I have been known to be so caught up in my own thoughts, or a conversation, or looking at something that I have walked right smack into a wall.  I stub my toes more times in a month than I care to count.

Today, while leaving to get the Little Man off to school, I fell down the stairs.

This isn't exactly a new thing for me.  I often trip up the stairs.  Or slip down a stair or two.  Once I even fell down the concrete front entrance steps at work.  In front of several people.  It wasn't a slip, or a slide, or a trip.  That time it was a full on head-over-heels tumble.  Resulting with me ending up sprawled on the ground at the bottom of those steps with a scraped up leg, a bruised elbow, and some hurt pride.  That time was definitely worse than this morning.

I was preparing to dash out the door with coffee in hand, when I slipped.  Or something.  I'm not very clear on how this fall started.  I just know I took a few steps and next thing I knew I realized I was pitching forward.  Two very clear thoughts went through my head in about a half second flat. 

1) Grab the railing!!
2) Don't spill the coffee!!

I think I grabbed the rail at some point, but my hand slid right off and I ended up lying sideways on the stairs in a rather crooked position.  With some serious pain shooting through my right hip and thigh and all up and down the right arm.  I had to take a minute to sit on the stairs and compose myself.  While the pain subsided to a dull ache.  All the while reassuring The Little Man that I was fine.

I did manage not to spill the coffee.  Just splashed a little on my left hand.  So, there's the bright side of the whole incident.