I am Klutz

My goodness, am I a klutz. I'm the worst kind of klutziness I know. Honestly. At any given time, I have at least three visible bruises, a couple of paper cuts and a scratch or two (granted, paper cuts can be considered an occupational hazard and anyone who has a cat gets scratch 2.7 times per week at least, but that's not the point). If you hear a thump followed by a muffled hiss - that's probably me hitting the corner of the living room table again. Or the bed. Or an open cabinet door. Or whatever.
You'd think that in 26+ years I'd finally learn to work within my physical limitations - stand up slowly from a crouching position (especially in the kitchen), not to rush into the cycle room like a tornado, backing away from a machine in the gym, closing all doors that don't need to be open, walking into the bedroom slowly. Ah... nope. None of those useful lessons ever make it into my thick skull. I just don't seem to be in full control of all my limbs (and head) at the same time, and it's not like I'm super tall or anything. I'm just - a klutz.

So this above here is my latest damage. I threw a used X-Acto blade into my trash, instead of into the blade receptacle. Then shoved my left hand into it to squish its overflowing contents down. What do you know? I have an almost half inch long and pretty deep cut on my poor pinky. Ouch.
Do you think I will one day learn? I doubt it. I think some people are just too darn accident prone.
Thank goodness Ant's mom is a nurse. Now let's just hope this wonderful quality isn't genetic.