My Trip to the Takeaway (pun intended)

I made a very bad decision about an hour ago. Feeling incredibly virtuous and uber-fit after my sweaty 50 minute session on the treadmill, I was feeling a little peckish, so decided to reward my effort with my favourite takeaway lunch (not to be mentioned as it will therefore incriminate the business I so regularly patronise). So, off I trot to said takeaway shop, enjoying the rain falling on my car windscreen, humming a happy tune. Arrive at takeaway shop, stroll casually up to entry and WHAM!!!! Before I knew what had hit me (or what I had hit) I was flat on my backside, feeling like a complete A1 goose. And, of course, there had to be people sitting in the window of said takeaway watching my not-so-graceful fall to earth. I picked myself up, checked for any major life threatening injuries (other than wounded pride) and staggered into said shop to pick up my order. I politely told them of my slippery escapade, which was due to their new slippery wet tiles at the front of the shop, and refrained from mentioning that my husband is a lawyer who specialises in personal injuries (I kid you not). After the concerned shop attendants questioned the extent of my injuries and gave me my lunch (dang - still had to pay for it) I staggered off home. So here I sit, feeling very sore and sorry for myself, with a badly bruised arm, sore backside, jolted pelvis and wounded pride. Lucky I'm not 30 years older with a degenerative bone condition....