How Not to Walk the Dog: A Life Lesson

So I thought I’d take advantage of this beautiful weather and take Griff out for a walk. I had my poop bags, my red, blinking light on Griff, my This American Life and what I thought was a flashlight (turns out the battery was dead). About a 1/4 of the way into my walk, where I finally get some sidewalks, just crossing over the LA River, I fall…BAM!

I am NOT a graceful klutz by any means and keep in mind, I’m deep in thought listening to the story on TAL (it was a good one, too). Down I go, right onto my knees and shins and up go my arms. I roll over hugging my legs, owing up a storm. Griff, mind you, is just wondering why we stopped.

I’m too much of a wimp to continue on, but I’m a tad bit too focused to at least get in a 30 minute workout, so I head home the longish way, back through the park, in the dark, where I probably shouldn’t be, hurt or not. I’m safely home (after having to retrieve the extra key since I managed to lock myself out as well – go figure!).

I can’t bring myself to wash my leg though. It’s throbbing and burning and well, it just hurts. A lot. I guess I’ll go take a bath and wash it that way instead. But man, this sucks.


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