it's a good thing i don't have hemophilia

i think i might secretly be trying to kill myself. but am hiding it from myself. until it comes out in extreme incidents of accident-proneness. well, that or it's REALLY time to quit my job and every part of me knows it except the part that keeps on waking up and driving to work (except for last... tuesday?... when i woke up exactly two minutes after i was supposed to be there. but it was 4:32am, and you just can't make me care enough that early.)

it all started innocently enough when i had (yet another) fight with the saran wrap the other day (at work, of course). thought i was fine, until i discovered a couple minutes later that i was, in fact, bleeding all over myself. it's sad when you don't even realize you've lost the fight. with an inanimate object. at least this particular inanimate object has actual metal teeth. anyways, not good when serving food products to the public.

and then there was today...

walking used to be a manageable activity. i swear it did. then i lost that part of spatial awareness that allowed me to walk around the giant hedge outside the sig house when i saw it, and i started walking into it. every fucking time i passed it. i would develop a conspiracy theory involving tractor beams (and maybe occasionally vodka -- but not always), only then i started doing the same thing with furniture. looking at it, usually exclaiming "desk!" (to the confusion of those around me), and walking smack into it. and now... and now.

now i don't even have anything to run into. i have begun to trip over ABSOLUTELY NOTHING. i fell over in the parking lot at the store today for absolutely no reason -- again. only this time, i left a whole lot of skin behind. i would like to be able to say i did some amazing skateboarding trick and almost landed it but lost control just at the last second, because really a road burn this size should not exist for any other reason. i can't say that. i can't even say i tripped over a large rock. because i didn't. i don't think i even tripped over my foot. i just fell the hell over. it's almost impressively pathetic.

in lying, lauren slater writes, "i think secretly each and every one of us longs to fall, and knows in a deep wise place in our brains that surrender is the means by which we gain, not lose, our lives. we know this, and that is why we have bad backs and pulled necks and throbbing pain between our shoulder blades. we want to go down, and it hurts to fight the force of gravity." i'm not even, apparently, putting up much of a fight. so what happens next?