hopping mad

Have any of you heard the word "hop" used in everyday activities? Hop into bed. Hop out of bed. Hop on over. I am sure that you have heard these phrases used at least once in your lives. I never really understood why anyone would want to hop anywhere, but hey, to each his own. Anyway, my point...

I thought about this whole hop phenomenon. Is it something I want to do? It is me? Does it sound like I would benefit from this hopping? So I decided to do it. I was going to hop. Why not? I like to try new things.

This morning I really really really didn't want to go to class. At all. I would have rather stayed in bed of course, slept an hour more and gone to work on time. But I had to go. I had to get my lazy ass up and go to class. So as I laid (I have no idea if I used the correct form of that word, I always fuck up on that sort of stuff) in bed, in my warm bed, in my warm, wonderful, comfy bed. I had to force myself up. I so threw the covers off with my legs and readied myself for the hop. I spun around so my legs were level to the floor and I thrust (that is such a dirty sounding word) my body upwards into the hop. The hop that was going to start my day off right. The hop that was going to energize me for the entire day. Oh, I wish that were true...

I didn't so much hop as slide. My left foot landed on a back issue of Rolling Stone and I slid across the floor. I guess the force of the fucking hop propelled me across the room with my foot on Ruben Studdard's face. The high impact slipping caused the fall. I fell right on my ass, and it wasn't a nice fall. Since none of you know me, I'm a slob. I never put anything up after I take it off and it's all on the floor. I fell on a heel. A spiky heel. Right in my ass. My shoe was upside down and I feel on the fucking heel. It wasn't nice. I didn't like it. I was in large amounts of pain. And because of the fall, I almost cut my tongue in two with my teeth. So I was sitting on the floor, holding my ass and doing my best to hold back screaming, "FUCKING SHIT ASS CUNT!" I was not a happy camper. Needless to say, my bruised and beaten ass got back into bed, set the alarm for an hour later and went back to bed. When I got up again, there was no hopping.

So now, I have a bitten tongue, a bruise on my ass the size of a nickel and rug burn on my right ankle and shin (don't ask me how that happened).

The Moral of this story: Never try new things the first thing in the morning.