Wednesday night on my drive home from "Lost" night at the Placencia's. (GOOD TIMES) I let myself get self absorbed. (I know, what else is knew these days). I was thinking through my myriad of health stuff and was mentally comparing myself to Humpty Dumpty... and praying that God would put me back together again soon. (it's amazing how deep in thought I can get driving only a few blocks).
So, I got home, was carrying my crock pot with leftover buffalo chicken dip, a bag with some celery in it and my purse. I get inside, unlock my door, and begin to ascend the stairs... and fall. Hard. Landing with my kneee in the step resulting in big bruised egg, and hit my chest on the crock pot (nice bruise there, too). I thought for sure Shauna (my roommate) or my scary (but thoughtful) neighbor Dan would hear me moaning. I limped up the stairs and got ready for bed.
But isn't that funny. I have to wonder if God was using his sense of humor there, if it was a coincidence or what. Or... of course there's the fact that I'm a ridiculous clutz. There's always that.