I’m clumsy. That’s no surprise to anyone who knows about my inner ear imbalance. But riddle me Alzheimer’s: when exactly did I drive the back of my calf into a wall, causing it to look like a bruised pear? Did I fall on the inside of my forearm in the last 48 hours? And why exactly is my index finger puffed up?
I like things rough as much as the next gal, but it seems to me that I actually have to make contact with someone or something in order to sport a little friendly bruising. When a mysterious mark on my right earlobe appears, I think it’s time to install some motion-censor cameras because the only logical answer is paranormal activity.