I took clumsy to a whole new level.

You thought I was clumsy before? I mean wow. Let me recap my Wednesday for you. Not because I’m completely self-absorbed, but because I am in so much pain that I can not think of anything except myself.

Wait…. aren’t those…. uh…. nevermind.

So yesterday I’m packing to head to Kentucky, because I had a fun-filled 48 hours planned up north with Marie and friends. I load my arms up with things like bags, towels, pillows, these kind of sundry items. And I walk out my door. Like I do, oh I don’t know, five to six times a day.

And as I go down the steps, my left foot steps to the ground and ye old ankle rolls. I fall to the ground and litter my yard with road trip supplies. And as I’m falling, I think, “what’s the popping and ripping sound?” and the next thought was, well, some things I don’t say on the blog.

Because even God-fearin’ women don’t always handle pain appropriately.

Luckily (or unfortunately), the gas company guy saw the whole thing. He walks over and says, “Ma’am, are you alright?” I sit there, stunned. He asks, “Can I call your family?”

To which I reply, in the highest pitch sob I have ever released from my mouth, “I DON’T HAVE ANY FAMILY I DON’T KNOW WHAT TO DO!!!”

[Because maybe you are new around here, so hi. My name is Annie. I just moved to Nashville and I have no family here nor do I even know where an ER is. And it is nice to meet you.]

So in the shock of it all, I hobble around to gather all my things, thank the man for his kindness, and then head inside. [Trust me, I know what you are thinking- I wish I would have videoed the whole thing too.] I quasi-panic when I look and see this (taken with my cell phone) –

So then I realize a trip to the doctor may really be in order. Luckily, my friend Hollie had the day off from work, so I call her and she pulls a citizen-ambulance moment and rushes me to the hospital.

Many tears, apologies to the doctor for being a wimp, and xrays later- it’s not broken. Just a “severe sprain”.

Which to any of you who have had a sprain before, and I have been unsympathetic because I thought sprains weren’t that bad, my sincerest apologies. I’m paying for it. In a serious way.

I’m headed to the Vanderbilt sports medicine doctor (thanks for the hookup, Robyn!) on Friday morning at 7:30am. Cause nothing says HAPPY FRIDAY like the combo of early morning and crutches.

Not to mention that now I have to miss the opening of the first Trader Joe’s in Nashville and really, some tragedies are too deep to discuss.

So, as of right now, it look-a-like-a this-