My stairs have been trying to kill me. (The picture shows the grand entrance in my house. Yeah.)
Just about every day this month, I have fallen up the stairs at least once. Sometimes twice. Sometimes three times. I'm not being a suck and telling you I trip a little and then keep going. I mean I'm falling completely forward and landing on my hands, my elbows, my hip...not my face yet, but I'm sure it's only a matter of time. I'm amazed I haven't broken any bones, given how extremely fragile I am with all this apparent osteoporosis.
I'm wondering about ghosts. Do you think there could be a mean ghost in my house who thinks it's funny to push me up the stairs? I know lots of alive people who would think that was funny, but they're never behind me when I look. Last time I fell, I said, "STOP IT!" to the ghost. We'll see if that helps.