The Last Straw

Okay, so this past week, and I suppose past 2 weeks, have been slightly out of control. I am not even sure what to really focus on in this blog because I felt like this entire week my mind has been in this fog of indefinable emotions. If you know me, you know that I like to define my emotions. I am a very passionate person; when I am happy I am happy, when I am sad I am sad, and when I am mad I am mad. I give it all I got. I personally like to know what I am feeling. You know, this helps with knowing what type of music to listen to. Hater rap music? Sad music? Love songs? Breakup songs? Crazy fun music? Country songs with no meaning? I couldn’t even choose what type of music to listen to.

On Monday night of this past week, I was running on very little sleep and my body and face began to show it. I developed this rash all around both of my eyes that carried into my cheeks. It was red, puffy, itchy and it burned. Not to mention I looked like I may not make it through another day. I give you complete permission to laugh at this next story, because it is funny. And I am only sharing this story and the words that follow to tell you that life does go on, God always provides some humor even in the worst of situations, and there is joy in every aspect of life.

So, here is the greatest story of my last couple of weeks. On Monday night Kellyn looked at my eyes and goes, “Erica…that does not look good.” By this time it was late, but my face felt so swollen I didn’t even think I could handle it anymore. At 11 o’clock, I drove to Walmart to get any sort of medication to help me out. [Side note: If you are ever in Huntington, Indiana and need to go to Walmart at an hour after 9 p.m., don’t go by yourself] As I got out of my car, apparently a bird pooped on my head. I didn’t know this until I went into the store and was informed by a group of guys with tattoos who followed me around that I did indeed “have bird shit in my hair.” Yep…there it was. I felt my hair and felt this thick goo.

Not a huge deal, I would be out of Walmart soon with medicine. I always try to see some sort of silver lining in situations, so I just told myself that this would be a great story to go back and tell everyone at school. But…things did indeed get worse.

As soon as I found the medicine, I began heading for the checkout line. As if out of nowhere, this small child (which, by the way: who brings their 2 year old to Walmart at 11 p.m., anyway?) with a toy truck decided to push the truck away, right in front of my walking path. Well, as you can probably guess, I tripped over it. My entire body basically went up two feet and landed face first into Walmart’s floor. And as I laid on the floor with my knees throbbing, bird poop running down my itchy face, my purse and the contents in it flung all around me, the guys with tattoos laughing at me and saying inappropriate comments, I thought, “yep, things can’t get much worse than this.” The poor Walmart worker came up to me to help and asked, “Are you okay?”

And that is when I lost it, right there in the middle of Walmart at 11:30 p.m. on a Monday night. I guess you could say this was the last straw.

I got up, refusing his help which was just embarrassing, and looked at him and said, “Am I okay? Do I look like I am okay? I have a rash that has messed up my face, my purse is all over the floor, there is bird poop running through my hair, and relationships are just too freaking hard! Does that sound like okay to you?” Honestly, I don’t know where that came from or why I decided to unleash on this old guy, but it happened. Emotional vomit, as Brittany would like to call it. He looked at me and goes, “Uhh…sorry, I didn’t know.”

No, he didn’t know nor did he probably want to know. But he found out, as did the dysfunctional family with the two year old and the gang of perverts with tattoos. They all found out I was having a bad time.

All I wanted was to leave Walmart with a little dignity…but that clearly did not happen.
But, hey, the next day I was laughing about it. And the good news is that the medicine I got took care of the rash, the bird poop washed out of my hair, and my knees stopped hurting from the fall. The rest of my problems, well, they don’t just clean up as easily as bird poop and can’t really be solved with a medication, but I have faith that with time all things will heal. And maybe, just maybe, there will be some funny stories to go along with that, too.