November 11th, 2007

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San Francisco

I'm in San Francisco, drinking and enjoying myself. I've managed to hook up with one of my coworkers that's also becoming a friend and we're talking about everything under the sun. We're currntly chatting in an Irish bar where the locals are hooting at one another about something or other. It's much like being on the fringes of an outside jok. You might get it if onlt someone would explain the premise.
gag

Dangerous feet

Ever since I fell and twisted my ankle so badly a year ago, it seems that I'm falling all the time. It's getting bad enough that I actually have a sense of humor about it now. It's hard to not stop and laugh a little when you've just tripped over the ground badly enough to crash to the ground in front of a bunch of strangers.

I wish I could figure out why I've developed this propensity to crash to the ground. Is it a particular pair of shoes? Am I not paying enough attention? Do I really need to focus that much on where I'm putting my feet? When did I develop such a disconnect between my brain and the rest of my body? Should I be wearing padding or bubble wrap to protect against these times? If only that were the answer...

The nice thing about all of this falling down is that people are so very kind about it. Everyone who sees me go splattering all over the ground rushes over to see if I'm ok. I never actually hurt myself anymore (is it sad that I've learned to catch myself properly while crashing to the ground), but it's heartening to see that people actually care. The kindness they display somehow renews my faith in humanity. They could just turn away and ignore me, but they don't. They actually comer over to see if I'm ok or need help. It's just nice to know that people care when they see someone who might be in trouble.