Sunday, 30 September 2012

Calamity Jill.

So I always tell people I'm clumsy. But I rarely divulge the extent of my wobbly little problem. 

It's a daily fight with everything, moving and stationary.
For example, today in the airport, I managed to pick the only wonky table in the cafe which sent my scolding Americano flying. I was so embarrassed, but the nice bloke made me a fresh cup.
Queuing to go through security, the little clear bag with all of my small toiletries burst, scattering the tubes and bottles everywhere. Getting ready last night I managed to trip over nothing in my apartment and I ended up launching myself face first into my open suitcase.

I clearly have some kind of calamity death wish. 


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