Life in the fast lane: dork-fish

I have seen the light, and my blog-funk has lifted!!!

And no, the word "dork" has nothing to do with a whale's penis. I looked it up. The point here is, I'm a total dork-fish. Seriously, all I do is bang myself up all day, just by walking through the house. And I'm not being dramatic here. All I do is stub my toes, or wipe my shoulder out on a doorway, or trip over a cat (baby-gate, shoes, sweatshirt, box, stool, stairs, bed, rug, curb, grass, more stairs, my own two feet, you name it, I trip over it), or (my families personal favorite) slam my shoulder into a door because I tried to go through it too fast and I didn't get it open before my body decided to go through the door anyway. My Mom likes to say that I look like Garfield when I do that...You know, like when he's chasing after Jon's car and it stops, and he slams into the back window? Yeah, that's me...
Anyways, this last little dork-stunt I have pulled is hitting my knee really hard against a wall. How did I hit my knee against a wall, you ask? If only I knew...Well, I do know that I was getting up to get something and I was kind of running and I somehow hit my knee while rushing past the doorway. Don't ask me how, the only thing I can come up with is that my knee had a mind of it's own, and it was like, "You know what? I think I'm going to jump out at that doorway and surprise it! Ouch! Okay, that didn't work how I thought it would..."
Now, one thing you should know about me is that I'm pretty fast paced all through the day (well, except in the early mornings, 'cause I'm not a morning person). I pretty much run everywhere I go, which is why I smack into things all day, evidently. The funny thing is, when I was little, I was the careful one: while my brother hit his head against things just to make me laugh, I never ever got hurt. This changed sometime between being thrown up in the air in cheer, and doing back-hand-springs in gymnastics. All the sudden I can't stop getting hurt. I'm lucky enough that it's mostly just lots of cuts and bruises, however.
Another thing you should know about me, is that I bruise really easily. I do not know why when I hit my elbow against the counter or something that there is magically a bruise there that shouldn't really be there because I didn't hit it that hard, but it's true. And this bruise on my knee is looking all purple and blue and stuff. It's all, "Hiya! I'm a bruise! Oh yeah, did I forget to introduce my friend Goose-egg here? How rude of me."
How did I get this way? I don't remember being so clumsy in cheer. In fact, I hardly ever fell, and if I did, it was one of my spotter's fault (if one of you are seriously reading this, which I doubt because you haven't seen or heard from me in like, six years, no offense, but I was good at flying). And I definitely wasn't falling all over myself in gymnastics, because if I had I would have broken something for sure. Maybe it's 'cause I'm getting older? Gee, I never thought being eighteen would make me old...Maybe it's just 'cause I'm getting more impatient as the years pass, and my brain is just so scattered (most likely filled with thoughts of writing, whether in my blog or my novel) and I can't seem to pay attention to everything around me? That sounds more like it. Either way, I seem to live life in the fast lane, and I can't keep the dork-fish side of me out of sight when in said fast lane.
Blog ya later, Miss Eccentric.
P.S. Happy Groundhog day! Punxsutawney Phil saw his shadow, so here's hoping this actually works and we get more winter!!!