Sometimes, I like to play a little game with myself called: "Can I fit through that?". It's usually me walking and seeing some sort of barrier that I'd like to squeeze through, but I must always ask myself, "Can I fit through that?" It's a great game to play when you are feeling frisky and curious like a kitty. But sometimes, it ends dangerously and usually involves me scraping some part of my body that bruises easily because I'm anemic, (for some reason, I'm always shocked that I'm anemic because I'm fat, seems that with all I eat, I should be getting enough iron). But, back to my game.
I play "Can I fit through that?" when I'm getting out of my car and the car next to me is too close, so as to not bang the car next to me, I have to maneuver like a snake. I also play it when someone is blocking a doorway and I have to find somehow to slither by without grazing them. I especially dislike playing this game with others. It's not fun to walk with a relatively skinny person and have them glide through two objects only to leave you doing that thing where you suck your gut in and contort your body in such an odd manner it makes your face go into funny shapes and whatnot. I hate that. But yesterday, I played the ultimate game of "Can I fit through that?", and sadly, I lost, badly.
While walking to my car from work I decided to take a short cut I've never taken before in all of my years here. And, if I learned anything from it, it's confirmed my belief that change is not always a good thing. While trying to get through between stairs and mid-height pole, I somehow misjudged my circumference, and in doing so, scraped the hell-o operator out of my back leaving me beat up and bruised. It was the kind of pain that left me wondering if I'd ever be able to breath again. If you saw the bruise, you would have thought someone beat me with Hotwheels tracks. Not a pretty sight.
Stairwell/mid height pole: 1
I'm not taking this defeat lightly!