This weekend I fell through a window. It was sort of a "come to Jesus" moment - an awakening if you will. I was the 35 year old that squeezed herself through a tiny little window of the ceramics lab on a campus full of people and expected to clear the 5 foot landing that lay on the other side. With sunglasses and sandals on.
Maybe I was showing off (although I still hope not a soul saw me).
Maybe I was too proud to say, "You know Tiffany, you're far too old and out of shape to do something so absurd."
Or maybe while I was dangling through the window with my foot and fingers stuck in it's tiny opening, knowing that I was going to have to just let go and fall, I was thinking, "this is how it all ends. This is how they'll find me."
Obviously it didn't end. I'm fine. And not a single bump to prove and bare witness to my poor judgement.
But a bruised pride and broken necklace are good reminders anyhow.
Maybe I was showing off (although I still hope not a soul saw me).
Maybe I was too proud to say, "You know Tiffany, you're far too old and out of shape to do something so absurd."
Or maybe while I was dangling through the window with my foot and fingers stuck in it's tiny opening, knowing that I was going to have to just let go and fall, I was thinking, "this is how it all ends. This is how they'll find me."
Obviously it didn't end. I'm fine. And not a single bump to prove and bare witness to my poor judgement.
But a bruised pride and broken necklace are good reminders anyhow.
