At least I didn't fall down and go boom.

I decided I was going to put the roller blades on today. I sat down on in the middle of the basement floor, struggled to get the hooks hooked, and was ready to go. Until I had to figure out how the hell to get up. Ironic how everything to hold onto seemed just an inch out of reach. I tried to use the dog but he just freaked out and ran away with his tail between his legs. Finally I shimmied my butt over to the chair (the chair that spins of course) and wobbled my way to standing. I was fine. Then I had to move. I started out on the carpet just to get a feel for it. I mastered rollerblading on carpet, let me tell you. Brave, I skated right over to the linoleum. That's when I realized I didn't know how to stop. The roller blades feel like ski boots, so I guess my skiing instincts kicked in (even though I haven't skied in 21 years) and I tried to "V" to stop. How quickly I was reminded I wasn't skiing as I "stopped" once I hit Brian's tool chest. That's one way to do it, I guess. I had wrist guards on just in case I fell and I feel as though they messed with me more than standing on a bunch of wheels. I didn't like the feeling of not being able to move my hands. Anyway, tomorrow I'm making Brian go somewhere with me so I can try it out again. At breakfast this morning Brian's partner was joking saying I better take my cell in case I got hurt. The more I thought about it, he had a point. So anything outside my basement, Brian's going with me. Brian's idea is for me to hold on to Remi's leash while he chases a ball or a bird or something. I feel the love.