Oops

I was a little more than halfway to work when I realized I had forgotten my bicycle helmet.

(You can tell where this is going, right? There are no happy stories that start with "I forgot my helmet".)

I was already running late, because I am supposed to be in early on Mondays and I never remember that when I'm getting up on Monday morning. And there's not a lot of point in turning back for a helmet when you're past the halfway point anyway.

On the last turn before the driveway for the bank, from one little side street to another, I took the turn a little too tight. My bike dipped into the turn, then dipped too far, overbalanced, and I skidded sideways against the road, my hand sliding to brake my fall but not enough, the side of my face hitting pavement.

I picked myself up. My palm was skinned and bleeding from three places. My face hurt. I seemed largely intact. My bike was fine. I got back on, rode the remaining hundred yards to the bank, and went inside. From across the lobby, two of my coworkers said "Good morning!" I thought, Oh good. I must not look too bad. I felt a little unsteady on my feet as I lurched to the bathroom to wash off my hand.

I looked at my face in the mirror.
( This is a couple of hours and some cleaning later, but close enough. )