For all practical purposes I am still a single girl living in a city. I am engaged, but Groom is 650 miles away in his own world most of the time. That leaves me to live the glamorous of a city-dweller. What made me think about this? I fell out of my shower. That's right, fell out of my shower. I love how cool all city girls look on teh teevee. Gossip Girls are clearly living a better life than I do despite that they are in high school, and let's not even try to live up to the ladies of SATC or these new shows about cool business women in cities that I've not watched. (However one of these shows, Lipstick Jungle was on Project Runway last week, so it's possible I'll take a gander at it).
So back to real city living. I walked home the ten blocks from work to my apartment listening to my ipod and dodging tourists. This is the exciting part of the day - my puppy Juno greets me! She is so excited for my return, and I pretend it's not just because I have the ability to dispense puppy treats. We go for a walk.
Then I debate snack items, and realize that yoga is in 45 minutes, which reduces the choice to a banana, instead of the soy ice cream sandwich I want to eat. (Bear with me - I'll get to the good part).
Yoga is awesome - the Monday class is my favorite. I have a bit of a girl-crush on the teacher, who used to be a circus performer and can bend in shapes that I'm uncertain people should bend into. Then I walk back home to the excited greeting of my puppy (yay!) I go to take a shower, and my ankle twists a little, and I slip. I fall OUT OF MY SHOWER, people!
I managed to not render myself unconscious on my toilet by sheer luck, and I land on my back staring at my ceiling, which by the way, has awful tiles. As I stare at my ceiling, I realize that I could have really hurt myself! My phone is in another room, and my puppy is on the other side of the door. She could still get in, but I suspect in a few days, her love of me would take a new twist as she realizes I am not going to bring any more puppy treats, and now I am the puppy treat. I start to wonder how long it would take for someone to realize I'm not answering emails, twittering, or going to work. I think about how awful it would have been to have knocked myself completely out on a toilet. This is not the fabulous ending I have in mind! Then I wonder why stuff like this is never shown on shows about cool girls living in cities. I suspect (well, now I just hope) that this is a far more normal occurrence than people want to realize. I mean, Bridget Jones understands what I'm talking about. Also, she is becoming my role model, sigh.
Then I realized I was still laying on my bathroom floor, and this is ridiculous, and I still needed a shower, Juno needs another walk, and I have to eat cereal for dinner and find more songs for my ipod. Lord, I am 30 and fabulous, exclamation point.