New Year, Injured Me


Due to some technical difficulties, this blog post will be going up a week later than anticipated. Apologies for that.

2019 is already shaping up to be a bit rough. And no I’m not affected by the government furlough. I’m talking about my personal inability to demonstrate adult-like qualities.

Late last year I moved into an apartment (financially supported by my parents, thank you very much, as the result of the whole unpaid intern life) and was ready to be a proper adult. I was full on gonna spend 2019 adulting. And then my first day back to work after the holiday, I went grocery shopping after work, like an adult. I checked my mailbox, like an adult. And I made my way towards the four steps in the lobby to get to the elevator. Due to slippery tiles, slightly too long pants, hands full of grocery bags, and general inability to walk, I hit the ground. Hard.

Nothing broken in the grocery bags or my body, fortunately. After a moment on the ground of self-wallowing, I got up and brushed myself off. I had a joke or two ready to go in case someone nearby might have witnessed my flailing body hit the ground, but the only people around were hidden behind the mailboxes chit-chatting. (I’m sure the security guards had a laugh watching the security footage, but I have to bring joy into people’s lives somehow, right?)

I made it to my apartment, out of my work clothes, and onto the couch with no further incidents. By the next day, however, my knee had an extra bump, I’d scrapped up my knuckles, and somehow I’d managed to bruise my bum? Still not quite sure what was my downfall, but I figured I can make it through the year without wearing pants again, or grocery shopping again, or walking up stairs again, or checking my mail again. I’ve gotta avoid possible injury.

Everyone I told the story to was kind (and laughed at me behind my back instead of to my face) and told me “Hey! At least you got it out of the way! It’s all uphill from here, right?


Thanks to a new Costco membership shared by my new roommate, I somehow ended up with a toaster oven and 12 bagels. Because I cannot possibly eat 12 bagels before they go stale, I threw them in the freezer. I had the brilliant plan that I would pull one out and defrost it each night, giving myself a yummy and filling breakfast each morning. Genius, right?

Ha. Well, I decided I wanted to test the toaster oven out before my 7:30 a.m. breakfast. I pulled a bagel out and, while waiting patiently for the bagel to defrost, learned how to use my toaster oven. After what I assumed was an adequate amount of time, I grabbed a knife and started cutting.

To save you the gory details, I should have followed (received too late) advice that suggested I carve up my bagels before freezing them.

So, with my finger wrapped in gauze (no stitches!), my knee a beautiful shade of purple, and everyone in my office passing around the flu, I’ve started the year off grandly.

I don’t like year long resolutions, but I do like goal setting. Usually they’re either really lofty (love yourself) or really simple (eat a vegetable every day). This month, my resolution is relatively basic: don’t die.

Here’s to 2019. I’m glad I’m here. I’m glad you’re here.