Sometimes Life Presents Us With Dilemmas

I'm not the type to blow things out of proportion, to overreact if you will. I don't stress out or have anxiety attacks that leave me in the emergency room at 1 in the morning on a random tuesday night. Most of my friends would probably say "chill" if asked to describe me in one word because, essentially, staying cool is what I'm all about. So when I make mention of "dilemmas", a purely relative term, I'm talking about insignificant, minute, itty bitty rabbit terd shit compared to the things my psychosis manifests daily, momentarily resulting in the violent rise of my blood pressure. I just wanted to establish a certain perspective here.

So perhaps you were or weren't in your car on a very hot afternoon. You may or may not have been extremely thirsty, even thirstier than that family vacation you went on where the gas station attendant actually contemplated whether or not he knew what pop was. "Pop?" he questioned you. "Well, I'll check in the back." You saw an old bottle of iced tea and thought dangerously little about the repercussion of drinking rancid nestea before bringing it to your lips and tipping that shit back. The painful stomach ache you experienced later was a coincidence. Pure coincidence that had nothing to do with expired aspartame chemicals floating around in your vulnerable intestines.

And maybe, as you sat in an exceptionally long lecture on wednesday afternoon, staring at the minutes being passed on your cell phone, you had an alarming thought. Your purse is open, a perfectly acceptable state for a purse to be in and necessary if you're going to be staring at a phone that you'd rather not have your enthusiastic Bosnian prof see -- but wait! You have other things in your purse, specifically a sketchy hand knife that your friend brought you back from his recent trip "across seas" and you realize in a moment of panic that maybe your prof would care more about the SERIAL MURDERER in class, than the rude cell phone watcher. It's not that you regularly carry around hand knifes, leather bound Xena style ones none the less, but you happened to receive it on that particular morning and what else could you do but slip it right beside your mac book? Do you try to conceal the knife bringing more attention to the fact that you have an illegal weapon, or do you play it cool and hope that no one notices?

Or do you stand up in the middle of your mind numbingly boring lecture, knife in hand, and yell I'M GONNA SHANK YOU BITCHES!