This site uses cookies to improve your experience and to provide services and advertising. By continuing to browse, you agree to the use of cookies described in our Cookies Policy. You may change your settings at any time but this may impact on the functionality of the site. To learn more see our Cookies Policy.
OK
Dublin: 22 °C Wednesday 15 August, 2018
Advertisement

7 classic signs I missed which prove I'm actually a complete klutz

I’ve actually punched myself in the face.

LIKE CHANDLER BING, I have a reputation as a ‘dropper’ – something that left me absolutely fecking reeling when it was first disclosed because I actually pride myself on my cat-life reflexes.

dropper

No seriously, I have actually delivered the term ‘quick like a cat’ with a smug grin on more than one occasion.

I know yeah, I’m not mad on me either.

It was then I was told that the only reason I have these so-called ‘cat-like reflexes’ is because I drop absolutely everything I come in contact with, and on the law of averages, it’s only logical I save at least some of them.

Most people know if they’re a bit of a klutz and tend to tread carefully, but it took me a lifetime to really figure it out.

klutz

And on top of being clumsy, here are just some of the other clues I (bizarrely) missed along the away, but which helped others identify me as an utter clown.

1. I have absolutely no spatial awareness.

My hips are permanently covered in bruises because I regularly underestimate the distance between my body and the kitchen counter, door frame, bookcase; take your pick.

Like most normal-functioning humans, I’ll position myself upon approach so as not to make contact with the object ahead, and yet nine times out of 10, I will graze off it at best, and knock myself out, at worst.

2. I spend at least five minutes a day untangling myself from door handles.

Whether it’s the strap of my bag or the belt loop of my jeans, I have to take time out of my day – every single day -  to untangle myself from the door handle I’ve become stuck to.

It largely comes down to spatial awareness (shocker, I know) and means I can often be found awkwardly standing in doorways, muttering profanities to myself, and asking for assistance if particularly problematic.

3. My shirts unbutton themselves throughout the day.

I have yet to make it through a day in a button-down shirt without inadvertently flashing my bra to every poor unfortunate around me.

I don’t know why it happens, and I wouldn’t even be able to hazard a guess as to how often, but suffice to say, I regularly glance down and find myself staring my bogey old bras in the eye.

And unsurprisingly, in my haste to preserve what’s left of my dignity, I miss the sequence of buttons and don’t match the correct hole with the correct button, further cementing my rep as a gobshite.


4. I am given special delph in some people’s homes.

Those closest to me have forbidden me from using certain glasses in their home because, frankly, they know me well.

And while I don’t tend to drop glasses as often as I drop my phone, the remote control or the book I’m holding, the fear is always lurking.

So, it’s just easier to slide me a bog-standard mug than entrust me with a recent wedding present.

safety

5. I have literally broken things while trying to clean them.

On one occasion I pulled down an entire curtain pole while trying to wash around the window sill… and it wasn’t even my house.

On another occasion, in an attempt to air out a room, I opened all the windows and bore witness to the greatest smashing of a door frame the world has ever seen. When I say smithereens, I mean smithereens.

I have also dusted an entire house with insect repellent.

house

6. I punched myself clean in the face changing my bedsheets.

I don’t know how much more I can elaborate on this except to say I watched my own fist sail through the air directly into my own face, and I was unable to stop it.

And, well, I punched myself straight in the face.

punch

7. I accidentally walk up people’s legs.

You know those friends who invade your personal space when you’re walking alongside them? That’s me.

I will – unbeknownst to myself, obviously – get closer and closer until you’re forced to walk on the road or tell me to cop the f**k on and stop walking up your leg.

FYI though, I’ll never stop.

way i am

DailyEdge is on Instagram!

  • Share on Facebook
  • Email this article
  •  

About the author:

Read next:

COMMENTS

This is YOUR comments community. Stay civil, stay constructive, stay on topic. Please familiarise yourself with our comments policy here before taking part.
write a comment

    Leave a commentcancel