Best. April. Ever

3 May

I have written a lot of good starts to blog posts recently. I thought they were pretty funny – I did one about my crazy experience with the waterski team and one about my frustrations at the pool at highly unsavory hours. Some were endearing and what I thought to be pretty good writing-wise. The letter of things I wanted to say to Annette before her epic adventure begins the day after tomorrow. The letter to my grandpa Robenalt, who passed away seven years and one day ago. The letter of things I wanted to say after she first told me she was engaged, that rainy Easter Sunday when I was  driving to Cincinnati, lost in a cornfield outside St. Bernard, crying a ton of happy tears because I knew my best friend found her perfect person, someone who will always provide her with that elusive thing called happiness. Please pardon that run-on sentence.

I started all of these things and for some reason, just did not finish them. I found the end result not good enough, not capturing exactly what I wanted to say, not communicating to the fullest potential. Look out for them in the future, hopefully!

However, this one, I am definitely going to post. This series of events is just too ridiculous not to share.

Through deductive reasoning, I have determined that one of my ancestors most definitely incurred the wrath of a Romanian gypsy, and she put a curse on my lineage. And for some reason, in April of 2011, the curse has really come into full force.

The break up. The fever. The accident. The stitches.

All of these things sound like plot twists in the most incredible Lifetime movie. And they all happened to me over the course of the past three weeks. Like, really. Ok. What is next? I am anticipating a bear attack tomorrow. Let me break it all down for you.

The break up

Two weeks, five days, and six hours ago (but really, who’s counting), Joey and I went separate ways. And that’s all I can really say about that without reverting back to the crying, grieving Elisabeth that existed at the beginning of this three week ordeal.

The fever

Days after the break up, I definitely started getting sick. I went to sleep one day with a headache and chills and what was probably a low-grade fever, and I woke up unable to hear out of my left ear and just incredible pain in the head/throat region. I went to doctor #1 and found out I had strep, sans tonsils. And thus commenced a four day fever ranging from 101.7 to 102.hot. I survived a house party that ended in a massive food fight in the kitchen and cops and unsavory activities in the bathroom with adjacent wall to my bed, unexpected speaking in church, and work during this time. I recovered from this, just in time for…

The accident

Mom and dad let me drive their 2008 Civic to Cincinnati so I could have a car to run an assortment of errands over the next few days, and also so dad could avoid driving into the city, which is not his most favorite activity in the world. I was doing great with it until I backed into a pole and did $800 worth of damage. At this point, I was incredulous. How could April get any worse?

The stitches

Oh. April could get worse. Today, seventeen minutes into my shift at work, I slipped on a puddle and fell, kicking some metal piece on the guard stand with my foot. I thought I was great until I noticed blood spewing from my foot. I walked around the corner to the office, leaving a trail of blood behind me. We had to call a Code Red (haha) for the entire building, wrapped it, and my roommates came and took me to the ER, where I received 8 stitches and a tetanus shot – for a gash between my fourth and little toe. Of all places. It is like a paper cut, except the paper cut drank anabolic steroids every day since he was born, mixed with his daily glass of orange juice.

All of these things, and addition to human body parts raining from the sky literally around the corner from my house, are just a lot for one person to handle all at once. Where does it leave me? Exceptionally disillusioned with things like love, trust, and the safety of lifeguard stands. Tired and in increasing levels of pain as the hospital painkillers wear off. Stressed. Poor. So lonely that I adopted a psychotic rabbit named Lenny and call Annette probably four times a day.

But there is more. I’m hopeful. No matter what, seriously, it can only get better. Tomorrow will be better if I do not have to get stitches, which I am most certainly going to avoid. Oh. Wait. I forgot about the bear mauling. I amend that statement. Tomorrow will be better if I can do the little things, like find a good book to read, discover a new band I am crazy about, talk to Annette one more time before she leaves. Because what are trials? Are they permanent states of agony? No – they are temporary challenges meant to make you better on the other side. It might take a few more months of horrible happenings for my other side to get here, but eventually, I will get there.

In the meantime, I better start wearing a helmet. And avoid areas prevalent with bears.

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One Response to “Best. April. Ever”

  1. Elisabeth Hieber May 3, 2011 at 6:49 am #

    You know what. It’s not even April anymore. I am so dumb!

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