Susan. A study in poetry in motion

You ever have one of those days? Last Friday, I was walking with my friend Joey, minding my own business, laughing about something she said and enjoying what's been a very rare occurrence in Seattle lately--a sunny morning.

Then I caught my toe on a piece of raised sidewalk and my sistahs, my upper body lurched so far ahead of my lower there wasn't a hope in you-know-where of catching my balance. One minute I'm on my feet. The next I'm sprawled out on the sidewalk, whimpering Hurts, hurts. Hurtshurtshurts.

Not that my injuries were all that serious--I smacked one knee hard enough to eventually turn a dense purple, but not break anything, and mildly abraded the other. I had a minor scrape on my right palm and a bigger, nastier, but still inconsequential one on my left forearm. But there's a wicked shock factor to a spill, so I was shaken. And my left hand, which I'd thrown out unthinkingly to catch myself, was kind of a mess. My landing took a nickle-sized flap several layers deep out of the skin over my wrist bone. It bled like a sonofagun, but I'd dragged my butt out of bed early to meet Joey, we were barely a mile into our walk and I didn't have to be to the salon to get my hair cut until 11. So I slapped a leaf on it and we continued on. I had a vague plan in the back of my mind of getting a band-aid when we reached civilization (Tullys ).

The bums didn't have any.

Okay, no problem. They had plenty of napkins.

When we set off again, we climbed a steep hill until we spotted a long street that angled back down toward the beach where we'd left our cars. Since we were now several miles from where we'd parked and I did have that 11 o'clock appointment, we checked to be sure it wasn't a dead end (lots of those in Seattle) then headed down the road. It was kind of cool. I'd never been on this street before and it hosted some really pretty homes and a killer view.

But maybe a half mile down, it petered out. And a woman whose yard we considered cutting across said the street in front of her house didn't go through, either.

Okay, no problem. If we walked reasonably fast--and trust me, Joey can move!--I could still make my appointment. I had to take my fleece jacket off a couple times because hiking uphill in the sun is HOT work, but we visited as we cut through a neighborhood that was fun in its unfamiliarity. And, hey, it looked like I was going to get to the salon on time. (which, considering how badly I needed a cut, was a Very Good Thing)

But as we were steaming down the final hill and my car was in sight, I reached into my jacket pocket and. . .

Problem. No keys. Arrgh! Joey said wouldn't you know she didn't have her cell with her today or we could've at least called the salon to let them know what happened. Hey, I said. I've got mine. In my purse. . .

Which is under the seat in the car. Sigh.

She drove us back to the area where I'd taken my spill but we didn't find the keys. And given how many times I'd taken off and put back on my hoodie, which has kinda shallow pockets, they could have dropped out anywhere. So she drove me to the salon to see if it was too late to still get in. It was, which was just as well as I couldn't pay them until I got into my car, which wouldn't have been a problem as I've gone there for years. But I would have had to hoof it the two or so miles home afterward and I was pretty much hoofed out.

So J drove me home and later Mimi took me down to retrieve my car with my spare set of keys. Joey could have done it when she dropped me off but we were both so frazzled by then it didn't occur to either of us until she sent me an email later in the day to say, Duh!

When I was making lunch later, I knocked a jar of Pepita seeds off the counter and they went everywhere. When I went to get the broom, I brushed a cat food dish with the side of my foot. Oh, goodie. Another (smaller) mess to clean up. Sigh. I finally decided there was only one thing to do.

I grabbed one of my cats and took a nap on the couch .

So have you ever had one of those days?