Just this week while trying to get all my ducks in a row, and assist my husband in preparation for a business trip, the force tried to detour my progression.
Minding my own business and going about my routine, I slipped and fell off my back steps—landing not so gracefully on my left hip. I wasn’t alone, but my companion went about her business and came back to wait entrance back into the house. She acted as if I usually lay under the bush by the back door every time I walk her. Knowing my husband was on the other end of the house and wouldn’t hear me I hauled my sorry-butt—or should I say sore butt—off the soaking wet ground and went back inside.
Do you know how absorbent denim is? I do now. Somehow, I managed to escape external bruises. Internal bruising is another story. I realized rolling over to get out of bed this morning. Today is only the first day. The second is the day they say will be worse. I had some trouble getting in and out of my truck too. I'm not looking forward to what tomorrow brings!
Have you ever suffered a wound pride? How did you deal with it? Did you haul yourself up and continue on as if nothing happened?