Apparently, I have a Complex.

Readers. My, my it certainly has been a long time. 

The past few months have been ones filled with fun and frenzy and adventure. I promise that I will divulge details of my UK exploits, complete with pictures and vids! Now I feel like that I just need to write SOMETHING or my soul will break. Yes. You didn't think that was even possible, now did you? Well, it can. So, to stop potential splintering from taking place, I write, I type, I bleed. Not to mention, my cute blog host background decided to die, so my blog is kind of re-vamped. Tweaking will continue to ensue, but this will have to do for the evening.

Updates, updates. What to say? I've been working like a madwoman, going to school, and still continue to moonlight as a super-hero as often as I can.
This moonlighting can sometimes cause delusions of grandeur. Take today for example-

 I stupidly stated in a CPR course this morning that I wanted to be a doctor. Immediately all eyes reverted to me as an example of what all medical protocol should be. My palms began to sweat, anxiety mounted, and I made a spectacle of my stupidity known quite quickly. First, it began with the gloves. For one of our tests, we had to simply put on gloves and demonstrate how to take them off properly. I HAVE DONE THIS PROBABLY 100,393.5 TIMES. My palms began to sweat. I stuck my hands in the gloves anyway. They wouldn't budge. The struggle continues.  Ick. Quick, get up and wash them with cool water before you make a bigger spectacle of yourself! Bad idea. Residual water all over my hands. I attempt AGAIN. Fail. Fail. Fail. RIIIIIIIP! A huge gaping hole appears in the palm of my glove and a latex comrade is lost to another clumsy human casualty. The instructor sheepishly hands me another glove, and all eyes continue to stare in pity at the girl whose plans are much too lofty if she can't even put on a stupid glove.  Everyone in the room was finished before I could even get my pinky finger in the right position. The instructor announced in front of the group that we needed to move on, so I yanked off the sticky gloves, hid the incriminating evidence underneath my left buttock, and gazed at the floor.
 Next, we learned about CPR. As if the glove incident wasn't enough, I got a bum dummy. After doing compressions like a pro, I put on the face mask and was sure I had a good seal. No matter how I tried to re-adjust the mask, the chest wouldn't inflate. I kept thinking it was something I was doing, but apparently, the bag that replicates lung movement wasn't even attached. But it was too late. The damage was already done. Because I was so flustered, I began bumbling like an idiot when saying the commands to my classmates. Instead of "Call 911, get me a first aid kit and an AED!" out sputtered "Um 911 I need, first aid kit, AED...I need all of those, in that order. Here, preferably. and please. "  Needless to say, I felt like crawling away and hiding.

My life is awesome.

Also, anxiety sucks.

And not being able to process your feelings in general.

Now, I can hear you saying "Heather, what in the name of Susan B. Anthony am I supposed to learn from your gobbledygook?"

Friends.
1. Never put yourself in a situation where you ruin your hopes to be great. (In this instance, setting yourself up for failure when you over-think how to put on gloves and your life in general. )
2. Don't eat deli food from a grocery store in the middle of nowhere. It's gross, doesn't have a time stamp, and will most likely contain too much mayonnaise.
3. Find a reliable person you know won't judge you or your thinking process, who will hold you accountable but love you unconditionally.
4. Running or cleaning  during a panic attack can work.

So- that's it. Amusing? Random? A waste of time? Let's hope not.
Thanks for reading.
Xo-Heather Ann.