Klutz

With one week, I have managed to smash my phone screen, and snap the D string of my guitar, rendering both things pretty useless. It's true, that after twenty-four years of accidents, due mostly to my own stupidity, I should hardly register surprise.

Why do we so often choose to bypass that cautious, wizened voice? The one that taps us gently on the shoulder and warns. After all, it's usually right. Have we not heard it time and time again, offering its sound two pence at apt moments? It never gloats or boasts, because it, unlike us, is not remotely shocked at being ignored.

If achieving 'adult' or 'grown up' status is via a process of learning from your mistakes, then consider me approximately four years old. I live my life on whims, and with no apparent understanding that potentially risky situations will usually end with a loss of some kind. It always seems worth rolling the dice.

That's why the bed cover is stained with nail varnish, why my elbows are bruised from the attempted navigation of gaps, and why the vast majority of my possessions have been dropped, chipped, fractured, and killed off. When will I start to listen?

I feel that perhaps my life would be safer, and all the more pain free, if I sat on my hands at every opportunity. If I restrained them so that they couldn't damage. (I will try this - but not sure how it will go down in the office, only my productivity takes a dive). Other suggestions welcome.

I'm off to put some blood, sweat and tears into my latest novel - 'The Prick'. Excerpts will be arriving shortly. Watch this space........