Sometimes I hate being tall.
I feel like such a klutz sometimes. It’s as if something is out of proportion with the rest of my body– aside from my expanding waistline. My feet aren’t enormous: I wear a size 10 1/2 shoe. But sometimes I feel like they are 10-ton weights being swung around at the end of 50-foot chains, crashing into everything– and everyone– around them.
Then there’s my arms. They’re the only part of my body that remained long and lanky when the rest of my body “blossomed” into its full-figured glory back when I was in about 7th grade. And because of this, they swing out of control and knock things over that any normal-proportioned person would have missed.
For instance: Earlier this week I broke my desk chair. I was simply preparing myself to sit in it when I broke the left arm off the chair. SNAP. It just came off in my hand. And this isn’t the first time this has happened to me. Oh no! I’ve had it happen at least FIVE times since I started working here. Our Office Services department has to think I’m a real rough-and-tumble type of guy. But I’m not… I’m just clumsy.
Today when I got to work I bought a tall coffee (or “Venti” for you Starbucks-lovin’ types). I don’t always get such a tall cup, but I needed it this morning. Or so I thought. I barely drank 1/3 of it, and left the rest to sit on my desk for the rest of the day.
So when I decided it was time to give up and dump it out, I reached for it, but reached just a bit too high. I wrapped my long, lanky fingers around the plastic “sipper lid” and promptly popped it off the cup, which caused me to react in a surprised manner, which caused me to tip the entire cup over… all over the contents of my desk.
There was coffee everywhere. My blotter calender was soaked and destroyed. My cell phone was swimming in coffee. And my rolodex was drenched in brown coffee drippings.
This is not an unusual occurrence for me. I’m knocking bottles and cups and papers and pens around all the time. I can’t seem to get a good grip on anything lately. Maybe something is wrong with my hands… or maybe I’m just a massive klutz.
So call me what you want– Calamity Jane, Disastrous Denny, or just plain ol’ Wreck ‘Em Rick… I’m a Clumsy Clumserson. If you see me coming down the street, you might just want to cross and walk down the other side.
This has been a public service message courtesy of RcktMan’s Launching Pad.