Curls the Clumsy

My day officially began when I tried removing a scented candle from a shelf I could not reach to blow it out, and ended up spilling hot wax on my (incidentally, freshly waxed) arms, and most importantly, on the sofa I take great pride in owning.

Having had the unique experience of falling out of an auto in Delhi, after banging my head against the meter and my knees against the base of the meter, I know David Fincher should give me a call if he ever decides to make a Fight Club II, this time starring a woman. I would give Edward Norton a run for his money without even trying.

I've dropped three phones several storeys down, and all of them decided to give me a second chance. I've also dropped my brothers a couple of times when they were babies, I think...which, now that I come to think of it, explains a lot.

There are very few parts of me that I haven't scarred by falling down stairs or sliding down walls. I've also managed to run into a Sumo on my bike, and got away with a broken toenail. I ran into a bike once, and got thrown across the road, and got away with a dented earring and a slightly disorientated mind...which, sometimes thankfully I think, has stayed that way since. I think God keeps me alive to amuse himself...or out of mercy for those people looking to start an afterlife without a criminal record.

So my superpower is a Supreme Ability to Hurt Myself and Put Myself in Danger...or simply, Clumsiness. Given that I don't quite have the figure of a superheroine as yet, I'm planning to call myself Curls the Clumsy.

And I think I might have found a sidekick in a close friend who banged her head and nose against a cupboard the day before yesterday. Like I told her, the way I see it, it's better to be clumsy than have a stutter. D-d-d-d-d-d-d-d-d-do y-y-y-y-y-y-y-y-y-y-you ag-ag-ag-ag-ag-ag-ag-ag-agree?

You might like to know: My costume also has a retractable device that occasionally pulls my foot out of my mouth.