In the morning, I realized that the game started at noon rather than 3 pm. So I thought about the writing workshop that I was attending: I could not withdraw my attendance (as it had impact on my reputation) so I decided to attend one hour of the workshop. Then I thought about how I would get to the game. Should I bike to the workshop and back to the my place? Or do I go directly from the workshop? Was it the same time? And I thought about how Chris was going to accomplish his task. Will he be on time? Will there be sufficient time to drive and park? Was driving a good enough reason? How will we meet up? Then, I thought about how long it took to walk from the BART station? Why didn’t I know the starting time earlier?

The stress was so distracting that my writing workshop was not as successful for myself as I had hoped. Rushing back to my place, I switched bags and put on my gear. Then as the thoughts whizzed through my mind, I rushed down my steps.

And in a single moment, the only moment that has happened in the last 6 years that I lived in this building, I misjudged a step and fell. I heard the smack as I landed on uncomfortable parts of my body. I glanced around, seeing that nobody saw. My bags were safe, untouched and unbroken. Brushing myself, I scanned my body for injury. Three painful spots. Muscular aches I hoped and started limping to the BART station. Seems like I wouldn’t make the 11:31 am train. I remembered distinctly my falls this year in the bus terminal in Vancouver and the lobby of the YBCA. Surely, I could recover right?

And on the way, as I called Chris to tell him about what happened and my delayed arrival, I started to feel relief wash over me and the stress disappeared. In place of the pain that I had.

It was going to be ok.

Walking in, I spotted him sitting. He was looking through his phone—the usual sight of people waiting around in this city. I walked across the lobby and came up on the other side of the long bench, behind him.

I thought it would be hilarious. So with a swift jump, I attempted to leap over the bench and to land sitting next to him. Instead, I suddenly found myself in a free fall ending up as a pile on the other side of the bench. Htting my knee hard and bending my right foot slightly the wrong way. He looked surprised which was the achieved effect…and had this look of recognition cross his face—I know this crazy person.

Immediately I was horrified. But then I started giggling at myself. And I wanted to curl up in a ball and hide for awhile. But what emotion came up the most was…immediate pain as I rubbed my wounds as others came over and said, “Are you ok?”

I could barely answer as I was starting to laugh at myself with embarrassment, pain, and horror.