Remember this day?
It gets worse.
The night after I got less than two hours of sleep, I stayed an hour and a half late at my internship finishing up work. Exhausted and ready to go home, I was forced to confront one of my worst fears: being stuck on an elevator. First in complete disbelief and then in complete panic, I called my mom to tell her my final goodbye and that I love her. Finally, security answered my emergency call.
Turns out I wasn’t stuck. Interns just aren’t allowed to be there that late and my badge stopped working.
It was the best.
I walked past the man at the front desk with my head hung in embarrassment. I was the real life Damien from Mean Girls. (“Don’t look at me.”) I got in my car only to be reminded by the bright orange light on my dashboard that I had no gas.
By the time I got to the gas station, I was sobbing on the phone to my parents like a five year old. I felt out of place at stoplights and intersections, in a business blazer much like the other people making their way home.
Except I was 20. And crying.
Thinking about it now, I realized even though it absolutely sucked and all I wanted to do was sleep when I got home, nothing about it was too too bad.
I wasn’t hurt, I didn’t lose anything, and no real damage was done.
I don’t really know what I learned today.
But I was thinking about how long I’ve been writing this blog, and how many bad days I’ve had, and how you’ve had to hear me talk about all them—because whatever it was was happening in my life at the time.
And that’s just it.
It is what was happening… at the time.
Bad days happen.
They happen, and they keep happening, and they will happen until the end of our time.
It’s what was happening at the time.
It’s strange—because there’s so much power in that statement.
What’s happening “at the time” can consume our lives.
It’s what we know in those moments and days, and sometimes it’s hard to think outside of that.
So let it.
Like my very first lesson, use bad days as an excuse. (I mean… this blog was a product of a bad day and it turned out pretty okay, right?)
It the perfect reason to ugly cry, scream a little, give up momentarly—
and then reset.
And that’s the best part of it all.
Sometimes we need to crash and burn to rise again.