I cried like a baby today. We’re talking huge, audible when they hit the floor, tears. When there were no tears there were sniffles.
However, because I am now in the safety of my own apartment, I can look back on today and the hilariosity that it actually held.
First, I look like this when I cry:
If that’s not funny enough to get you goin’ you’re in for a long ride.
Here’s how SobFest 2012 began. As you all know, my boyfriend is currently unemployed. This contributes to my stress level. As much as I try to stay positive I am a human female living in America, so money and the idea of not having any of it more or less terrifies me. Despite my steady employment and overall awesome situation in life, I have been consistently pushing aside feelings of fear and the desire to projectile vomit. As anyone knows, this sort of stoic approach to life eventually leads to crying like a baby in a cold, dingy white, tiled bathroom while some song by The Cranberries plays on a loop in your head. That’s very My So Called Life of you, Amanda. Why yes. Yes it is.
So, I’ve been pushing feelings aside. I took on a few more hours at work this week. In the past three days I think I have gotten a grand total of about 15 hours of sleep. Ladies and gentlemen, today I was The Perfect Storm. Ready to burst into tears at any moment for any reason.
It took one smoothie to send me over the edge. One delicious, pomegranate smoothie that I dropped on the floor in the back room in front of the UPS guy. Bless his heart, the UPS guy got the hell outta there the second he saw my little chin quiver.
I do not blame you UPS guy. What came next was nothing you would have wanted to see. Thanks to one of my managers, who gave me a big ol’ hug and told me in her really soothing mom voice, “Everything will be ok” I was able to just cry the shit out of my tears.
Once I cooled off, I went to the smoothie place with my broken cup that still held a little less than half a smoothie (that I was going to drink, dammit) to ask for another cup to pour it in. And here’s where things get less pitiful and start to get awesome. Smoothie girl says to me, “Oh no! Did your cup break? That happens all the time. Let me make you a new one.” I tell her, “Thank you, but it’s my fault. I dropped it and I don’t want to put you out, so it’s fine if I just get another cup.” Then she says,
“Let me make you a new smoothie. You totally want a new smoothie. Besides, smoothies are great!” and then she did. She made me a brand new smoothie. No cost. No snooty attitude. Just kindness.
I tell the world now, ROCK ON SMOOTHIE GIRL! You have no idea how much you brightened my day.
After things got awesome, they got funny.
So, I have my smoothie. I’m feeling good. I’m unpacking shipment with my awesome manager. Life is rad. Trash eventually builds up, so I take a cart topped with cardboard boxes and trash bags to the trash compactor . . . which is broken and piled high with trash. Not a problem! There is another trash compactor downstairs by JCPenny! I get downstairs, everything is great. It’s raining, but who cares! It’s refreshing, I’ve got a smoothie waiting upstairs for me. It’s raining a little harder. No problem. Almost done. Finally I walk back through the rain to get into the mall and the utility entrance is locked. Locked? No way.
Imagine if you will, five feet, two inches of crazy person trying to rip open a side door to the mall. In the rain. In a white shirt. With a purple bra. Imagine then, after oh, let’s say five minutes in the seemingly first really heavy rain this year, that little crazy person finally realizes there is another entrance about 100 feet away. I walk to said entrance totally prepared to flipthefuckout, and the door opens like butter.
It’s funny now.
What do I do to destress after this kind of day? I read this book: A Box of Matches by Nicholson Baker. This is my ultimate chill-out and relax story. Nicholson Baker has an ability to write about the mundane in a very interesting way. Before I read this book, I never would have thought that a novel about a man who sits in front of a fire every morning could be so interesting. Read it. Chillax.