In previous years, tripping on the stairs has been basically a daily occurrence. In high school, I literally tripped on every single staircase in the school at least twice. This includes falling up, falling down, sliding down on my behind, and nearly taking people out with me. There is simply no explanation to this: I can count steps just fine, my shoes fit perfectly, etc. The only logical explanation is that I am merely a klutz. I'm used to it.
Here on campus, you would think that after ascending and descending an 80-step staircase everyday, plus living on the third floor, plus having classes on the top floor of every building, I am basically guaranteed to have tripped on at least one of the 300 stairs (on average) that I climb. But by some miracle, I was still standing.
Today, after having a lovely lunch with my sister, she bought me ice cream. I was heading to my drawing class, which is up three flights of stairs, ice cream cone in hand. Walking confidentially I wasn't looking at the steps as I climbed. And that was mistake number one. About halfway up, I went for a lick of delicious Graham Canyon (if you know Creamery ice cream, you know what I'm talking about.). Mistake number two. Mid-lick, my foot fell just short of the next step. Mistake number three. Three strikes and I was out, literally. On my way falling forward onto the cement steps, my one free hand luckily reached out, allowing me to gain my balance. Unfortunately, during the jerking motion of the trip, my hand with the cone flinched upwards, shoving ice cream up my face. My (involuntary) reaction to the ice cream nearly up my nose, was this awful snorting sound that resonated throughout the open spaces of the HFAC.
I got up, looked around, saw no one was watching, wiped off my face, ate what was left of my ice cream, and made my way to class.
Smooth move, Sadie.
--Sadie
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