Oh, it was such a moment for me.

It made me wish I was tele-conferencing with a panel of my people who were all designing pages, lay-outs, and other implements for me.

Love this part; fix that. I want suspense Dave...give me suspense. The text should flow like water over rocks...satisfy my need for assymetry.

Regrettably for David, I said all of those things.

Tracey, do not exasperate your friends.

I went to this great little quaint restaurant/bar for lunch in honor of my friend Logan's birthday. We sat in the upper level of the bi-leveled restaurant. We laughed. We ate salad. We shared sandwiches. We counted the lip-gloss stored in my purse (currently down from 16 to 10...what can I say, it's so sparkly and pretty, I can't help it. I'm a sick woman.)

As we were leaving, I stood up, with my to-go box in one hand, and hand bag over the opposite shoulder, wearing my red-velvet china flats and smiling and laughing, dreading only the return to work.

I stepped.

I stepped again, down one.

I slipped.

I fell.

I hurt.

A collective gasp filled the restaurant, who seemed all to be situated so that they were facing the short stack staircase in the center of the room; followed by a chorus of "Are you all right? Are you OK? Are you sure?"

I grimaced and smiled all at once.

Emphatically I answered "I'm all right...yes, I'm sure I'm all right... just let me get to the door" was filtered through my thoughts, and I looked to my friends for shelter.

So my back hurts a bit. I have some random bruises, and a lump on my arm. The odd thing to me is how I managed to get a scrape on the top of my outer ankle. Strange.

Erin said she saw a squashed avocado on the floor.

I'd like to say that was the culprit, but I am afraid I have to blame the slick china flats.

With love on this Thursday evening --

Tracey

P.S. Matt is leaving soon. I'm not really happy about that.