it's a hard knock life

I work for a fun company. It seems that there are always classes, contests and tournaments to participate in. We recently had a dodgeball tournament at work and I was having one of those “lapse in judgment” moments when I agreed to join a team. I only signed up because my friend / coworker convinced me to. We were going to be on the same team and it was going to be a blast. She, however, fractured her foot the weekend before the tournament and was unable to play. Man, I wish I would have thought of that! I’d take a fractured bone over public humiliation any day.

Immediately after signing up I started having flashbacks to elementary school P.E. and the mean gym teacher, Mr. Schaefer, who made me cry. I should have known this was a bad idea. Dodgeball is a lot more difficult than I remember it being. But I guess in 3rd grade throwing a ball at people and running around doesn’t seem like much work.

Adult dodgeball is a whole different story. First of all, I suck at dodging. This should have been my first clue that I was more cut out for watching than playing. The skill of dodging is a key element in the game (hence the name) and it is a skill I lack. When I saw a ball coming toward me my first instinct was not to dodge. No, my first instinct was to stand frozen and scream until the ball hit me. Second of all, I throw like a girl. Yes, I know, I am a girl but I had high hopes in my ball throwing skills. Whenever the ball left my hand it was like watching something move in slow motion. It was horrible…pitiful…embarrassing.

I’ve decided that I’m really just there for the entertainment. I mean, what better way to spend an evening than to humiliate yourself in front of people you work with. The best part of the tournament was the fact that they spelled my name wrong. When I walked into the gym I headed straight for the sign announcing all the team members. I tried to find my name, however, it was not there. I looked once again and saw it. There in big black letters staring at me in horror. URISTA. What kind of name is that?? My name is KRISTA. How do you get a K and U mixed up? Come on! All night long my coworkers called me Urista. I’m never going to live that one down.

Thank goodness it’s over. Just give me a little time to forget about that experience and I’ll be up for the next tournament. Bring on basketball!