Today was one of those strange days where you try hard to look normal on the outside, even when life underneath feels anything but normal.
I went into the office, for the first time in months, put makeup on, dressed properly, acted like myself. Sometimes presentation becomes armour.
Parking around the building is ridiculous, so throughout the day I had to move my car three separate times between two-hour parks.
On the first move, I parked near the boom gate and walked around it through the shrubs.
I didn’t see a metal pipe protruding low from the garden bed and went straight over it.
Face first onto the concrete.
Hands. Knees.
Shock first, pain later.
What’s strange is there’s barely a mark on me.
No dramatic cuts or blood, just this deep throbbing ache settling into both kneecaps now that the adrenaline has worn off.
Sitting tonight at my daughter’s house with my legs elevated, feeling sore in that heavy bruised way that makes every movement remind you it happened.
I took a photo afterwards, and even looking directly at the area, the metal is hard to see because it blends into the landscaping. Hidden hazards are a bit like that in life sometimes, the things that bring you down are often the things nobody notices until after the fall.
The Lady in the Back Row 