Punching a Wall

I punched a wall the other day. It's mighty strange, because I feel like I'm often doing kluzty things, though less recently than I used to. In fact, it wouldn't be too unusual for me to sail around a corner and knock off our portable phone with my shoulder, or nick my fingers on a banister as I race upstairs, or run into the table with my hip, or hit a clothes rack as I'm walking by in the store, or knock a telephone off with my knee (this tends to happen when you're at my cousins' house). All these are just normal little things. Can you relate to any of them?

But like I said, I punched a wall the other day. Quite by accident, you understand. You see I was running down the hallway, my fists pumping automatically like they are supposed to do when you are running, when wham!!! My knuckles caught the doorpost of my dad's study. Ouch. But then I didn't really think much of it, until I glanced down and observed a blotchy red spot with some interest, and a satisfied feeling of so-that's-why-it-hurt. So now I can say that I punched a wall the other day. Of course it didn't happen as bad as it sounds, but I like to say I did it because it makes me feel cool and happy with myself. So now you get to hear about it. :-)