For those of you who read last week’s entry on the importance of being human, strap yourselves in because here’s a first-hand update: I’m writing today to say there are days when things around here are far more “Ow” than “Wow.”
What kinds of things am I talking about? Well, most recently, it was this morning when, in addition to getting Seymour’s eye medicine into his eye, I also managed to get it into my own.
Last week, I had multiple opportunities to indulge in Ow instead of Wow. I was in Miami with my friend, Tim, who has a marvelous motorcycle. (Perhaps you noticed the picture of his cool bike?) The trouble, however, was that almost every time he de-accelerated I was caught unaware and managed to smack my helmet against his like a life-sized bobble-head doll.
Not only Ow, but deeply uncool. There’s a reason you never see that in the movies.
Another highlight of last week was leaving my credit card in the restaurant where I was having a business lunch– after all, nothing says “I’m a professional” like having to be driven back to the restaurant for your credit card, right?
Luckily, over the years, I’ve learned to keep the (tiniest) sense of perspective: I’ve come to terms with the fact that my small motor skills are lacking; that I’m generally deeply uncool; and that every now and then I will simply drop the ball.
What do I do about it? When I do something bone-headed while I’m alone, I tend to indulge in comments along the lines of “Oh fish!” (And if you believe that’s what really comes out of my mouth, I have waterfront property in Arizona you might like.) When I’m utterly dorky in front of others, I try to be the first one to laugh at myself. When my humanity impacts others, I apologize immediately and move on, as I’ve found if I keep apologizing over and over, people have to manage me/my emotions in addition to the situation, which rarely improves things.
I hope that one of these strategies—solo-cussing, laughing, surrender to your humanity—stands you in good stead in your next Ow moment.
Frances Cole Jones