My cursing needs to get its priorities straight

A friend sent me a link to a T-shirt recently, offering it if the blog needs an official shirt. It is a design featuring the ubiquitous wheelchair dude from parking signs only he had fallen out of his chair. He is lying facedown and the shirt just said "Crap!"

I like it, although it occurs to me that I don't curse when I fall -- too focused on how I can get up without calling for help.

This morning, for instance, I fell getting into the shower, and if ever a fall deserved cursing, it was this one.

My foot slipped off the rug and I fell. The problem is I had seen that the rug was out of place on my way into the bathroom, but I did not feel like doing anything about it. It is not something I can fix on my own because if I wheel close enough to pick up the rug, my wheels are on it and I can't move it. And I did not feel like calling for help. So I fell. I got up and showered all without a curse in my mind.

I saved the curses for when my socks and shorts fell on the ground when I grabbed them, the "goddamn bastards."