Dear 100 Hour Board,
Do you have any terrible things that have happened to you (lately/ever) that are so terrible they're funny? I could use some solidarity and some laughs right now.
The only thing I can really think of is how I was having a really stressful week a while ago and then my sister called me for a ride because her car wasn't working but when I went to pick her up I discovered that my car had been towed. I then had to spend precious time that I could have used to study for my Quantum Mechanics final (and $170) to get it back from the impound lot.
I'm still not sure if I can laugh at that yet, but there you go.
'Twas the morning of an ill-fated day when I left my mission companion in the car to fill it up with gas. All our hard work and relatively little sleep left me feeling fuzzy, so as I stood at the gas station and blinked at the rows of buttons and different types of nozzles, I found myself unable to do what I had done almost unconsciously for the past year.
Which type of gas do I use again? I thought, my eyesight somewhat blurred as I looked at the four buttons. Oh, that's right. The cheapest one.
And I proceeded to press the button which gave me the most expensive gas.
My four-year-old self would have been ashamed. Hadn't my mother spent months teaching me the magical ways of numbers, carefully training it into my head that one comes before two and five before seven? But here I was, twenty years old, thinking two dollars was cheaper than one dollar.
I was going to give you the rest of the story in horrific detail, but considering I'm the only writer holding this question up, I'll sum it up for you: I filled up our car with diesel fuel. I remember holding up the green nozzle to the gas tank, wondering "Doesn't this usually fit in here?", chalked it up to my fuzzy brain for not remembering if it did or not, and started filling up the car. Halfway through a horrible feeling came over me, so I went to talk to my companion, who was left speechless when she saw the nozzle in my hand. We called the senior missionary who was over cars, he called a tow truck, we lied to the members who picked us up and later dropped us off at the car shop (we told them we just had car troubles), we lied to our district leader about why we didn't have a car for a day, and the next Zone Conference we were told to "not be like those sister missionaries who filled up their car with diesel gas" while everyone laughed and our district leader glanced at us suspiciously.
It's only taken three years, but I can finally openly share this story and somewhat chuckle at it.
-guppy of doom
My best source of dark humor to date has come from being in graduate school. Lego Grad Student exists for a reason.
I'm blessed enough that the terrible things in my life have been relatively easy to handle, but at the beginning of this year I had a succession of crappy, stressful things happen to me, and while it was not very much fun and I cried a lot, looking back at it it's vaguely amusing that life decided to wallop me so much over the course of one week.
January 1st: I wake up vaguely disappointed, because I had finagled my way into getting off work early the night before, and had been hoping to see Yossarian (whom I hadn't seen since the end of November). However, he was busy with family and not responding to my texts. So I wake up and text him something like "Can I see you today? I really miss you." I then proceed to take a shower.
When I emerge from the shower, Yossarian had actually responded to me. And his response was breaking up with me. By text, out of the blue. Less than a month after he was supposed to come to California with me to meet my family (until he bailed at the last minute), and less than two weeks after he suggested we live together. So it came as a bit of a shock, even though logically I knew it was the right move for us.
Thankfully I had the day off, so I spent most of the day crying and emotionally trying to process everything. Then, the next 4 days I worked 10-hour shifts in a role heavy with guest interaction and in which I was on stage all day. So I had essentially no time to process everything that was happening. One of those days I was the coordinator, and approximately 20 of the guests I was responsible for got stuck on a ride in the rain. And let me tell you, that was a nightmare, because the guests were soaked and unhappy. Kids were crying, and I'm pretty sure the cast members at Columbia Harbor House hate me because we left a large pile of rags on their tables because I had no time to deal with anything.
It wasn't a complete disaster, but I had to coordinate with my leaders to process refunds and add Fastpasses for people, and they were not being particularly helpful. I had time to eat about 3 bites of food before I had to dash off to continue fixing everything. Everything turned out okay, but it was more stress than I was expecting, especially considering it was my second-to-last day on the job.
January 6th: I had specifically requested the day off because it was the last day of my internship and thus the day I had to move out of my apartment and into my new one. However, the new complex I was moving into happened to be the one Yossarian lived in when we first started dating, and right next door to the place he lives now, which is why I was so excited to move there in the first place. Considering he had unceremoniously dumped me, the move was a lot sadder than I expected it to be. In addition, I was moving into the apartment with two friends, but neither of them were actually able to move in that day, so the apartment was empty and I felt really alone.
Since it was the day of moving and I was relatively broke, our apartment didn't have any furniture yet. My parents had bought me a bed for Christmas/my birthday, which was supposed to arrive on the 6th, but somehow it got delayed. So once I had lugged all my stuff up the stairs I proceeded to sit on the floor and cry about Yossarian.
I spent a few hours unpacking, then checked my phone to see a text from one of my college friends. Except it wasn't actually from that friend, it was from his Dad, letting me know that my friend had passed away from cancer, and thanking me for being his friend.
That was devastating enough, but that friend also happened to be the person I had dated last before Yossarian, so I was especially emotional about it, and spent a while crying about that as well. Between his death, the breakup, the end of my internship, and moving into a new apartment alone, I was paralyzed with loneliness and felt as though I didn't have anyone to turn to. It was a terrible, awful day. Also my bed didn't arrive for like another three days, so this was the start of three nights sleeping on the floor.
January 7th: This was an interesting day, and the calendar end to my hellish week. It was a mixed bag, because (lacking all anonymity) it was my birthday, so the dreadful sadness was interspersed with birthday wishes. It was also the first day of my new job, which is always a mildly stressful day (but on the bright side, I bonded with my coworkers really quickly because I vented to them about the week I was having). It was rough because I still felt lonely and depressed, and wasn't helped by a text from Yossarian that said "Happy birthday weekend" because my ex of 6 days apparently couldn't be bothered to know when my actual birthday was. But by that time I was emotionally drained to the point of exhaustion, and missing Yossarian way more than I should have been, because I was desperately craving his support through the rest of the upheaval in my life.
So that's the story of the most terrible week of my life. In retrospect, it's funny to think back on what a mess I was, and with a few months of perspective and emotional growth, I can laugh at the situation, plus feel very grateful for the many ways I've been blessed in the intervening time. I don't know if that gave you any laughs, but hopefully some solidarity?
Anyway, things will get better.
The other day I told a boy I was down to go exclusive and he compared me to three dude friends. I got a bad haircut. I got soaked biking to work and my eye was twitching ALL DAY. Rejection is manageable. Being rejected and seeming completely neurotic about it is funny. Which makes you laugh. Which makes you seem more neurotic.
But today the twitching stopped and the boy gave me tamales. So yeah. I guess things work out. We didn't but things did.
I was a long-term sub at a school I came to love, with teachers in the department that I respected and liked, and an unofficial understanding with the department chair and principal that I would be hired as a full-time teacher the year after. The interview went well, but I didn't get the job. The position went to another first-year teacher who had identical credentials except that he could also coach a sport. (Epilogue: because I didn't get the job I was expecting, I applied to others, and ended up working at a school that I think is an even better fit for me. And the department chair at the school that didn't hire me wrote me a glowing (and possibly guilt-ridden) letter of recommendation that helped me land my current job, so it's a happy ending, I guess.)
I also learned this year that I have a rare, incurable auto-immune disorder that may eventually cause me great(er) pain and blind me, but I was actually relieved about that, so go figure. Having a name for it at least gives me tools to learn how to deal with the symptoms. Ha HA!
I'm pretty sure this phenomenon is why Twitter exists.