Clumsy Chronicles | Part I

Happy Friday!

I miss pictures on Balanced Footsteps.  Don’t you?! 

I’m anxious to divulge my new veganish breakfast but don’t think words look as tasty on the screen.

How are you supposed to understand the deliciousness of the bread I just baked and want to share the recipe for, if you can’t see the butter glistening on the top of the perfectly browned loaf? 

How will you be able to really sympathize with me, melting in the Sacramento heat if you can’t see the egg we fried on the sidewalk?

I can’t even remember the last self-portrait I took or posted; what if you forget what I look like!?

Not to fear my friends, the new laptop purchase is imminent and we should be back in business in no time.  In the meantime, I’ll use lots of adjectives and you use your imaginations. 😉

This post is the first installment in what I’m sure will be an everlasting series.  I used to think I had rhythm; now I know better.  Somehow, the older I get the more accident prone I become.  I don’t embarrass easy, which is why I’m happy to share with you, the clumsy chronicles – short stories about the comical yet awkward situations I tend to consistently find myself in.

During my first week of work at my new job in Sacramento, I went with my boss to meet my first client.  We work with physicians and this particular MD is also a pilot (overachiever!) so he flies himself from his house in Auburn, to his practice in the Bay Area, weekly.  We drove.

We learned quickly upon entering his office that he was under the weather yet did not want to reschedule the meeting to an alternative, healthier date due to the importance of the agenda.  So the four of us (his office manager was there as well) sat, crammed in his shoebox of a workspace while he struggled with his cold, tissue after tissue after tissue.  This man was workin’ with so much phlegm that he literally used a new tissue to blow the snot out of his nose every minute or two.  Seriously.  (Bet your glad I’m not posting pictures on here now, huh!?)  Ironically, he was an allergist so he had plenty of sample Kleenex boxes on hand and boy did he use them.  After each nose blow he’d be sure to wipe his graying mustache, which I’m not so sure was having the desired effect.  Seemed to me, by the visible remnants, he was doing more rubbing in of the grossness than rubbing off.  Ugh! 

TWO HOURS later, we evacuated the hazard area and I was in desperate need of some fresh air and decontamination.  Luckily I eyed a large bottle of hand sanitizer on the reception desk in the waiting room so I headed over, trying to not think about the probable number of germs on me that needed sanitizing.  My new boss made small talk while we waited for the office manager to take us to lunch and we joked about the sick days I was likely going to be taking already as a result of this client visit.  With cleanliness in reach, I pushed down on the squirt top of the bottle and yeeeeeOUCH!  Sanitizing liquid shot out horizontally right at me!  Covering my face and hair!  I was stunned.  How in the world…? 

Tissue!  I need a tissue!  Somehow, now, of course, there seemed to be no tissue in sight. 

Didn’t see that one coming!  On my first client visit.  For my new job.  Right in front of my new boss.  During my first week of work. 

I spent the whole ride to lunch running my fingers through my hair to make sure I wasn’t going to have a Something about Mary moment during the meal.

Smooth Bethtober, real smooth. 😉

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