Getting back on the horse. Or heel.

I was feeling pretty spunky this morning as I walked into work. 3 snoozes on my alarm, new high-heeled boots, a good hair day, a soy latte in hand. Wednesdays don't get much better than this.

Any time I have thoughts like this, I should probably bring myself back to reality. Because as I was reflecting on my fabulous new footwear that brings me to a solid 5'9", I bit it in the middle of my work lobby.

My natural instinct was not to stabilize myself and remain on my feet, but rather to clutch onto my latte with both hands while falling onto my knees and narrowly missing a face-to-floor interaction. There I was, prostrate, offering my latte to the gods of real estate in exchange for their mercy.

Somehow I managed to say "Ohhhhh my word" instead of the string of expletives that was running through my head at warp speed.

I slowly got up, carefully stepped over my coffee puddle, and proceeded to walk miserably to the elevators as the admins of other offices stared at me from within their fishbowls.

Twelve hours before, I'd given a lecture to my dancers on the importance of walking confidently. I think today's lesson will be on grace. Perhaps humility. And if we have time, the importance of breaking in new footwear.