Word to the wise… don’t visit a health fair and have the woman take your blood pressure or BMI if you aren’t prepared for a roundhouse kick to the face. I thought I would try to play nice with others and have the little old lady tell me how effed up I really am. (As if I needed to be reminded in my current state right now.)
I was with a friend who had her BMI taken. Her voice got loud and she said, “Holy crap… if my BMI was a test score, I would be an honor student!” I had to laugh at that. Then the nurse took my blood pressure and wrote something down on her clipboard. She dropped her glasses from her nose and stared at me with a look of panic and sadness. Either she was going to call 911 or she was going to pass gas. I was really hoping for the gas.
She asked if something was wrong and I just sat there. I didn’t even know where to begin. Yes, something is wrong. Lot’s of somethings are wrong. I recently became engaged to the man I love with all of my heart. Hold your squeals of excitement. I am NOT one of those girls who thinks marriage is awesome and had my “marriage notebook” prepared since middle school. I never really thought I would find someone who I could tolerate long enough to have a life with, let alone them tolerate me. Just when I thought I would have lots of time to wrap my head around the idea of an engagement and marriage, my fiancé found out that his ear infection wasn’t really an ear infection, it’s a brain tumor.
Yeah, let that sit with you for a minute. When you reach the “WHAT THE FU*K” status let me know and I will continue. Ready to continue on? Yeah, me either…
So now we have a wedding planned, if you call having a date really a plan. We have no location, time or anything else. Is Chuck E. Cheese considered a venue? I attempted to get fitted for a dress at David’s Bridal in Olympia and that was an anxiety driven, sweat-filled nightmare. The corset they had me wear should have been made with a Sham-wow. The amount of sweat dripping down my legs could have easily been mistaken for me pissing myself as I shuffled my lace and satin covered, pearl-lined sweaty ass out in front of a bunch of women who I had just met minutes before.
I grabbed my phone and sent a distress text to my fiancé who was somewhere out in the parking lot waiting for me. I changed my clothes and prayed that the vomit in my throat would stay down long enough for me to exit the building. I got in the car and we drove home in silence.
The nurse just sat there as I told my story. She reached in her purse and grabbed a bottle of her own blood pressure medicine and tossed it back with a glass of water. I couldn’t help but smile knowing I had just crapped on someones day. You’re welcome old nurse lady, you’re welcome!
Stay tuned for more…