When gravity speaks, listen.

Several years ago I woke at my usual 5:30, brushed my teeth, grabbed my bag and headed out to the gym. It was winter, and cold, but I didn't think too much about it until I slipped on the top step of my deck and fell down the whole staircase, hitting each step along the way. One of those falls down where you're lying on your back in the grass and go "Oh Lordy, did I just fall down?"

Not being faint of heart, I rallied, reloaded my spilled gym bag, and went back along my merry little way.

I should have listened to gravity.

After skidding, slipping and sliding to the nearest interstate on-ramp, I found it closed. I was convinced the ice must end at some point soon - this is Knoxville, for Pete's sake. We salt and sand the main roads and call off school if the mercury dips below 32 and rain is in the forecast. After a brief, failed attempt to get to the next exit, I turned the car around and drove the excruciatingly icy two miles home.

Feeling like I'd played my wimp card, I (now, carefully) headed back inside and flipped on the TV.

Where the weatherman was frantically describing the freak ice storm. Where the sheriff was pleading for citizens to stay put. Where the traffic guy was urging folks to have another cup of coffee until the sun came up and the ice melted.

Later that afternoon I made it to work when Mr. Smith called me in a daze, and described making supper when the dish he was using suddenly, and very violently exploded. Not only was supper terribly ruined, glass was everywhere. (not kidding, this was five years ago and I still find the random piece of broken Pyrex in odd locations).  I came home with supper #2 to Mr. Smith desperately trying to unclog both sides of the kitchen sink. (on the plus side, Mr. Smith and I perfected our Double-Plunger-Synchronized-Unclogging routine that evening. It is an unfortunate skill we have employed on more than one occasion since this night.)

After a final cleanup of these tragic messes, I decided, once and for all, if I left the house and immediately fell down, I would, forevermore and for real, turn around and go back in the house. Not for the day or anything extreme like that. For the time being. Just until gravity calmed down a bit.

Fast forward to this morning. I woke at my usual 5:30, brushed my teeth, grabbed my bag and headed out to the gym. It is winter, and cold, but not icy. I didn't think too much about it until I for SOME REASON missed the last step on the sidewalk stairs and fell face first into the gravel driveway. I cried like my 4-year-old niece Lucy did Christmas Eve when she tripped running over a parking bumper. I sat in the driveway a few minutes to get my bearings and had an internal dialog about being a wimp.

Self: That hurt. That really hurt. Now I know why Lucy was crying so hard a few weeks ago. Where's my aunt to give me Hello Kitty bandaids when I need her?

Other self: The Hello Kitty bandaids are in your gym bag where they live. Duh. Now pull yourself together, get your bag repacked and get in the car.

Self: NO. I fell down. That is a free ticket to not go to the gym.

Other self: NO. You didn't go to the gym all last week because you were lazy, and you didn't go to the gym the week before that because it was closed. You said you'd pick it back up on Monday, and that was only yesterday! What kind of example does that set for the rest of the week?

Self: But... gravity is speaking to me right now.

Other self: Will you  listen to you? You sound like a real wimp. Is that what you are? A wimp who falls down and cries? Hmmm? What else you cry about, wimp? Mayonnaise on sandwiches when you specifically ordered sans mayo? Jumping spiders in the laundry room that hide in the washing machine and jump on you when you turn the water on? THAT SCENE IN MIRACLE ON 34TH STREET WHERE THE LITTLE GIRL WHO SPEAKS DUTCH TALKS TO SANTA AND HE SPEAKS DUTCH AND THEY SING THAT DONKIN DEER SONG TOGETHER?

Self: No....

Other self: That's right. Now dry it up, cupcake. Saddle up and ride.

So I repacked my spilled gym back, loaded the car and headed to the gym. I hadn't gone very far when I reached for my water bottle and found it missing - I knew I had it, I specifically remember picking it up and setting it on the hood of the car while I ... CHRIST.

I turned around and found my water bottle in the driveway. I turned around again, and this time I did fortunately make it to the gym, had a successful work out, and headed upstairs for a shower when I found a text message from Mr. Smith that said:

"you forgot your skirt."

GOOD LORD.

So. What's the lesson in this? Gravity is more powerful than me. When gravity wants to tell me something, I had best not ignore gravity. When gravity decides to chest-bump me, black-hole like, down to earth IT IS GRAVITY SPECIFICALLY SAYING GO INSIDE AND GO BACK TO BED. Not forever. Not for the day even, or anything extreme. Just for awhile. Just until gravity calms down a bit.

thanks, gravity. i'm all ears.