I tripped while walking two nights ago. I have to go tomorrow for a tetanus booster.

Honestly, if there was ever a reminder of human frailty, it is a lack of balance. Today, I hit bottom. I’m sad. My face is mincemeat. My shoulder aches.  My chin aches. The inside of my lip is the worst. I’m lucky I didn’t bite it through. I’m lucky I didn’t break my nose. I’m fortunate I didn’t snap teeth.

I was bundled up for the freezing temperature, dearly regretting my follow-through on a resolve to get more exercise. I was watching a man walking backward down the street and marveling at his temerity. The next thing I recall is slow-motion falling. I felt my face hit the cement. Of course, I looked up to see if he noticed. Tried to stand. Felt dizzy and disorientated. Touched my chin.  That hurt. I turned around after picking up my headphones and glasses, which both flew off. My phone was in my hand. My other hand was covered in blood. I looked down and blood was dripping down my coat. Rivulets of purplish red on black. Drip, drip, drip. What the hell? Long story short, called home for a ride because of all the blood. Enough to draw a lot of attention, and I felt embarrassed.

Two days later, I look a mess. My chin is warm to the touch, scabbing, and it hurts. I am in pain all over, feel exhausted, and can’t take down the Christmas decorations. No one offers to help. This depresses me more than I’d like.

I feel like women all over the world wonder if Christmas would even happen if they didn’t exist. It certainly wouldn’t be celebrated the same way. I’m tired and want to let go of many things. I desire fewer possessions and no longer want the pressure of continuing traditions and family legacies. I’m ready for the next generation to decide what’s important to them and take a journey into my painting.

I regret ending on such a down note, but I’m hurting. Until next time.