If I was a super hero... they'd call me The Clutz and my nemisis would be the floor

So this morning, I managed to trip over the air.

I'd like to say it's the first time that's happened, but I try to limit my lies to the fiction I write. And I have to tell you, I've turned being clumsy into an odd and disastrous art form.

When my alarm went off, I ignored it for a few minutes, as always. Then I made the dog move to the middle of the bed, so I could get up without having to literally kick her off.
I keep my phone (which is also my alarm clock) in the bathroom because a) acoustics and b) it forces me to physically get up if I want it to stop chirping at me. And as with every morning, I blearily started the trek from my side of the bed to the bathroom... it's not terribly far. But at the foot of the bed, I managed to tangle myself up in nothing (or maybe it was my pajama pants) and wound up ass over teakettle and face to the thin carpet that covers our concrete floor in that particular section of the apartment.

It's strange how falling can happen so fast but feel like everything's moving so slowly. That strange elongation of time gives your brain the fleeting hope that MAYBE you can save this. There was no chance.

I tripped, my foot caught on the corner of the bed frame and then I hit the floor with my left knee and left cheek. I don't have a clue where my hands were.

Pain is a funny thing. I have no idea what a broken cheek bone feels like, but for a moment there, I was pretty sure that I had broken mine. (spoiler: I didn't) My face was the thing that hurt the most, and curled up in a ball, crying, I could register that my foot and knee were messed up too, but my face had stolen the spotlight and wasn't about to let me pay attention to the secondary characters.

After about three minutes, sanity returned--even if my composure was still in tatters--and I was able to assess my other injuries and finally get up.

My right foot felt mangled, but the only sign of the pain that stabs at me every time I take a step is a v-shaped... mark? The skin didn't break, but it does look like a cut. My left knee (the one I fell on 8 or 9 years ago that has never recovered) was already starting to swell and sported a lovely purpling rug burn. Bending it is an issue. It's probably the most painful of the three now, hours after the incident.

My face? Yeah, it's just got a slowly purpling bruise that is hard, and a little sore, to the touch.

If nothing else, I'm counting it as a sign that the day can only get better... but the floor definitely won that round.