Here's that story: Two and a half years ago, I was walking down my back steps with my husband, stepson, and then 8 month old Fia to get ice cream. I was also reading a tweet about ghee written by amalah (if you don't follow her, you should, she's freaking hilarious). Anyway....down the stairs I went. I broke my ankle in three places. Of course, even though my ankle was dangling at a horrifying right angle from my leg, I was still concerned about where my phone landed. Five days in the hospital, two surgeries, and lots of metal later, I found myself stuck on the couch for about 10 weeks. Because I was playing on Twitter while I was walking.
Fast forward to today. I was at the gym, still tweeting while I was still walking slowly on the treadmill. I put my phone down, as I was getting hot and started taking off my sweatshirt with one hand, and to hang on with the other. I've done this before, but I always remembered to stand on the side rails. I pulled my shirt up, it got stuck on my head and I noticed that my t-shirt was coming up too, so I let go with the other hand....and went flying off of the treadmill. Ok, maybe not flying, because I wasn't going that fast, and it kinda felt like slow motion.
As I landed on my butt on the floor of the gym (and while it wasn't packed, there were plenty of people there), I started laughing and then I realized that I had managed to pull BOTH of my shirts off. So, I'm sitting there on the floor of the gym, with no shirt on - just a sports bra. And laughing my ass off.
I frantically pulled my t-shirt out of my sweatshirt, put it back on, and hopped on the treadmill. And immediately Tweeted about what I had just done. Because, of course.