My Unlucky Life #1

Hello! I'm incredibly bored and have nothing better to do, so why not recount the unlucky horrors that seem to always happen to me?

Let's start off strong with my first time smoking too much. For context, I was 15 and underweight when this happened and don't regularly smoke or anything like that... So you can probably imagine the laughable mistakes I made.

So! This particular night, my mother comes into my room and asks me if I want to go thrifting the next day, and so I obviously agree because I get lucky and find some good clothes sometimes... but there was a small problem. You see, my mom is an early bird and always wants to go to the thrift store right when they open, but at the time, I was basically nocturnal, so I was like... gosh... how do I fall asleep quickly?

Well... whenever I took hits off my brothers pen, it'd make me sleepy. So what better idea than to go ask for a hit and have a fun high before knocking out? Thus, I begin my gleeful trek downstairs to my brothers room, thinking this plan is brilliant and that nothing could possibly go wrong...

I get there, shuffle my way over and ask politely for a hit off his pen. He's like "Oh, yeah sure." And hands it over to me where I take a 3 second hit. I proceed to hide my face in a pillow to cough into and chat with him a little bit, absolutely chilling, hasn't hit me much yet.

My brother turns to me and goes "Has it hit you? Do you feel it yet?" So I shake my head. Keep in mind its only been like ten seconds after I finish coughing. So he hands it back over to me and he's like "Take some more!" And of course... like a lamb to the slaughter... I take the pen and make the worst mistake of my life by taking an even LONGER hit, not even waiting a bit to see how hard the first one would hit me. So rinse and repeat, cough back into the pillow and then waddle my way out to the kitchen to make me a quesadilla before I'm too far gone. 

So I'm peacefully making it, feeling my mouth start to dry and my eyes start to feel heavy, my dad walks into the kitchen and starts making a sandwich behind me which makes me a little nervous cause I don't know if he's chill or not, but whatever! 

And then.

The Horrors begin.

My vision starts to tunnel in on this quesadilla, and then I suddenly realize, holy shit. I can't remember anything that just happened. What is going on. SO I'M PANICKING OBVIOUSLY, I immediately think, "I need to get away from this stove before I face plant because I feel like I'm going to fall over." So I flip my half baked quesadilla onto my plate and shakily spin around to head back up to my room before it can get any worse. And then the devil himself emerges from his room and is like "...Are you good?" So like the wise and eloquent individual I am, I shake my head no with the biggest smile on my face and proceed to stumble past him, shoulder check into the wall, bang my hip against the couch, and then trip up the first two steps on the stairs. 

Thank god I had my priorities straight and caught my quesadilla before stopping myself from eating shit on the landing. My brother and dad are just staring at me now, I'm sitting mortified on the steps, curling up and resting my head in my arms like "ohhhh fuuuuuck...." BRO GET UPPPP WHAT ARE YOU DOING???

It's just dead quiet for a few seconds before my dad asks if I'm okay again while my brother is laughing at my misery. My mom emerges from her room and if I wasn't absolutely high out of my mind, I just know my heart would've dropped to my ASS. I hear her call out to me from the top of the stairs, asking if I'm okay. I'm internally praying for her to leave me alone, still curled up on the stairs staring off into the static that is covering my vision. NOT SAYING ANYTHING BECAUSE I'M INCREDIBLY SMART. So my dad's like "Hello? Say something." And I manage to choke out the most slurred "Um... uhuh. （;＾▽＾)"

So she's like "Oh... okay." And my one goal going through my mind at this point is getting to my room so I can chill out and ride this out in peace. I slowly rise from my position on the stairs... Like a majestic zombie just raised from the dead... Plate in hand... And I lock in for the performance of a life time.

I begin my trek up the stairs, larping as my alter ego... sober qwails... absolutely nailing it... and proceed to ping pong off of the banister, the wall, the armoire, SHOULDER checking my doorframe before ever so gracefully opening the door with my face full force. And I genuinely don't even know what happened next because one moment I'm walking forward, and then the next I'm WEDGED BETWEEN MY BED AND DESK LITERALLY IN THE FAMILY GUY DEATH POSE JUST SPRAWLED ON MY FLOOR LIKE A ROACH SPRAYED WITH RAID AFTER SLAMMING MY FACE STRAIGHT INTO THE WALL OPPOSITE OF THE DOOR.

I lay there. In a crumpled pretzel. Gazing into the distance

My mother witnessed the whole thing. The THC coursing through my veins allows me to feel pure peace and acceptance at my fate. 

She walks across the hall... into my room... where I lay halfway between deceased and in the clouds (NOT the heaven kind either.)

And she just?? Rubs my shoulder, asks if I'm okay, and accepts my delirious nodding as an answer before going back to her room???

So my brother comes into my room, laughing his ass off at the sight of me STILL LAYING THERE. I pick myself up, and my gaze lands on my bed... where the quesadilla sits untouched. 

I did it again. I apparently value a burnt quesadilla more than my own LIFE. Because there it sat. Perfectly perched upon my pillow like a brilliant golden gem. Saved from the car crash that was my body VS every hard surface in my path.

AND I WAS NEVER HAPPIER. I LEPT off the floor with a joy utterly unmatched as I blissfully ignored whatever my brother was saying to me, absolutely tunneled onto this quesadilla like when we first met. 

I settle down, set the mood... turn the lights off and prepare a movie (dancing fruits baby stim video of course. My taste is immaculate I know.) And then I dig in...

AND I DIDN'T EVEN REMEMBER IT. I DID NOT REMEMBER EATING IT. IT WAS JUST GONE. ALL OF THAT WORK. FOR NOTHING!!! If the THC didn't suck every last molecule of moisture out of my body, I would've burst into tears. But unfortunately for me, being as dehydrated as a shriveled up worm on hot concrete doesn't allow for much expression with my tear ducts. 

So I cut my losses... head still absolutely swimming, chug water, and fall asleep into the worlds worst night of rest I've ever experienced. 

...What happened the next morning, you may ask? Well, obviously I didn't end up going thrifting. All my pain and suffering was for naught, for my head was POUNDING and I had the most insane cotton mouth known to man. But I did get some sick battle scars from it... Like a GIANT bruise that covered almost the ENTIRETY of my thigh. But that's neither here nor there. 

A couple days pass after this incident... which just so happened to occur on the week of my 16th birthday. Exactly 6 days before my party. And I receive a pair of shorts as a gift! I show them to my mom, and she of course asks to see them on... I gulp... 

She wants me... to put on shorts... after my leg looks like I got hit by a car and dragged a few feet down the sidewalk. I swallow my fear, like the brave soldier I am... And I strut into her room donning the shorts.

Silence. Then "What happened to your leg?! What's that??" 

I blinked at her owlishly. What does she mean? Is she saying... she doesn't remember WITNESSING me crash into everything like a fat June Bug?? So of course, I fumble on the spot and think, a half truth is better than a lie, right?

"I fell up the stairs and caught my quesadilla before I caught myself." Amazing story. Because it's true.

"Oh... Really?"

"Yes. You were literally there, you watched it happen." 

"???Did I?" 

"...Mom."

"Huh. Okay."

AND I WALKED OUT OF THERE WITH THE BIGGEST GRIN ON MY FACE LIKE I WON THE LOTTERY. I technically did. Because what I didn't realize, was that my moms sleeping pills make her a little woozy, MEANING that she didn't recall a single thing that happened and was probably half asleep while she watched me humiliate myself.

SO REALLY. That balanced out my misfortunate night by letting me get away absolutely SCOT-FREE from the incident. BLESSED!!! TRULY BLESSED!!!! WE STAY WINNING OR LOSING??? WHO KNOWS.

Anyways, hope whoever reads this enjoyed my suffering, because I have a lot more where that came from. 'til next time!