I started writing a draft for this blog post on Friday night, in which I stated that Karma obviously hadn’t gotten me yet and maybe I’d overreacted about it being after me…then Saturday happened.
It was a friend’s birthday and we were planning to watch the first England game of the World Cup at a local pub. We had a few drinks at home and headed out in good spirits, cackling about how our very masculine friend’s new jacket was actually a woman’s jacket.
On arrival we headed to the bar and got some beers in, and then found a table to sit at with some of our neighbours. Just when we were seated comfortably, I decided that the best thing to do was to go to the toilet before the match started. However the toilets were up some winding stairs.
On my way back down the stairs, there was a very springy floorboard on the fifth step. This floorboard managed to catch my foot when it was unprepared, and so caused my ankle to do a complete 360 degree roll before I fell down the stairs.
Stopping myself from falling all the way down, I pried my injured foot out from where it was curled underneath my aching body. Testing that I could still move it, I identified that yup, it really hurt. I tried to put some weight on it, but found that it sent shocks up my leg. Sitting on the dingy blue carpet I tried ringing my friends. However because of the football match having now started, they were unable to hear their phones.
Willing myself to remain calm, I kept trying to get in contact with my friends. Yet when England scored their goal, and I had still yet to be rescued, I burst into tears. The pain in my ankle was getting worse as I panicked. When I finally managed to get through to my boyfriend, all I could do was blubber down the phone to him that I wasn’t alright and he needed to come get me.
Within seconds my boyfriend and our friend arrived to whisk me down the stairs and back to my beer. With help from another friend, we managed to get me back into my seat so that I could watch the England game with my friends, rather than through some bars on the stairs.
We enjoyed the rest of the night, where my shoe featured as more of a handheld accessory than its normal place on my foot; it even ended up being hung from a lamp post outside a pub. Yet this morning I could definitely feel that I had fallen down the stairs; with a throbbing ankle and bruises on my back, I haven’t been able to do much all day, except for hobble around, read and watch TV.
So yes, Karma it seems finally came and bit me, not in the ass but in the ankle. But that’s okay, if it comes back for me then I’m armed…with a walking stick.