There are three steps coming from the parking lot to my office. I was carrying a large drink and a sack and walking in from lunch. I wasn't in a rush or anything. I don't even know what happened. It's like my leg wouldn't hop up to the other step-- my foot just wouldn't lift but the rest of my body kept going. Ugh. I managed to catch myself with my hands and forearms, which now have some nice roadburn. Soda spilled. I immediately got up and rushed inside. I feel so embarrassed and ashamed that I let it happen. I realize how silly that sounds, but it's true. Once again, this disease is a lesson in control for me.
Last week, I just flat out ran into a cabinet in a wide, wide hallway. I have no clue why. Got a nasty bruise on my upper arm from that.
This sucks. I want to cry. I want to stop stuff like this from happening.
Last week, I just flat out ran into a cabinet in a wide, wide hallway. I have no clue why. Got a nasty bruise on my upper arm from that.
This sucks. I want to cry. I want to stop stuff like this from happening.
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