11 March 2010

a few "onhandig" moments in my going to America

A few rather onhandig things happened right before and right after my flying to America a couple of months ago. Not only do the things that happened illustrate the range of what onhandig means, they also remind me to laugh at myself on account of some of the dumb things I do.

After I got to America, I managed to forget my contacts, my purse, and my passport in three different places (and on different days). The contacts are still at my friends' house (waiting for my next visit), my mom picked up my purse (left at my sister's), and finally, after quite a bit of stress and hassle, I got my passport back - thankfully! This nasty habit of leaving things behind me was definitely inconvenient - and I subsequently resolved to do my best to get rid of this rather onhandig problem of mine by paying more attention to things around me. It's worked - at least to a degree (in the next day or two, I have to search through my apartment to find a couple of cards I seem to have misplaced....)

The other definition of onhandig is awkward or clumsy. And well, before I left I managed to have a couple of rather clumsy moments. About a week before I left, I slid out on my bike - and landed on my hip in the snow slush. It didn't hurt too much. Within a day or two, I managed to fall down the last 4 steps of my stairs (while carrying all my recycling out). I made quite a bit of a crash - and my downstairs neighbour came out to see my rather dazed expression. My body was starting to feel sore after that.

But the last moment of being onhandig was the worst. On the day after Christmas (when I wanted to leave early because I had plans), my ladder fell down from my loft - while I was on the top of it. I managed to scramble back into the loft so I didn't come crashing down with the lader (definitely was much more awake at the point). But then I was stuck with the problem of how to get down without a ladder. I had my phone, but I didn't have the phone numbers from most of the people in my own house - and it was too early to call people from the main house to come rescue me. So I figured that my loft's not really that high, so I can jump. I threw my mattress down on the ground, and after talking myself into having enough courage, I hung my feet over first and then jumped towards the mattress. It was relatively successful - except that I definitely jarred my back - and so by that time, my whole body hurt every time I moved. When I saw Matthijs later that day, I received limited sympathy from him. And I figured I'd better not tell anybody else since I'd get even less sympathy. I'm now being much more careful about the ladder and how securely it's attached. And if it ever happens again, I'm going through my whole address list to call for help first (even if it means being laughed at - at least then I'll be laughed at beforehand and not afterwards)!

I was reminded of this last incident the other day when Matthijs was looking carefully around my house. He admitted that he was picturing how I'd managed to get down. I wasn't sure if I should find that annoying or funny. I found it funny - I can only imagine how I must have looked! And so, if you'd like some visuals to help picture it yourself, Follow this link for pictures of my apartment :)

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