Well I passed another major milestone in becoming an adult this week. No I didn’t learn how to file taxes and, hell no, I did not stop leaving candles burning when I left the apartment. Instead I experienced my first authentic stress-induced heart attack. Talk about being a grown-up!
I have a night routine where I check my various blogs, respond to offensive comments, and then snuggle under my covers and watch the TV shows that I’m too embarrassed to watch in front of my roommate, Gena. Let’s just say you can find a lot of classic Grace Under Fire episodes on Youtube if you search long enough — also helps if you can read Japanese subtitles.
So I was checking my very last blog when I noticed there was a huge.problem. Like the entire blog had crashed problem. I’ve been writing for a start-up company which means they don’t have a lot of money (I’m paid in shiny pennies and expired food stamps). I serve as their blog editor, computer technician, and cleaning lady.
I signed on for the computer technician role because, after living with my grandparents for six months, I got pretty cocky about my computer skills. Then again, their problems were usually of the “how do we turn on the computer and how do we make the font even bigger?” variety. I have no f-ing idea how to fix a crashed blog. Truth be told my web skills pretty much consist of Googling my own name and seeing what life-threatening disease I have on WedMd. Sidenote: who knew the common cold, pregnancy, and brain cancer had so many symptoms in common?
As I stared at my blank computer screen contemplating the possibility that I had just lost three month’s worth of blogging as well as possibly my job, my heart jumped out of my chest. I started Googling things like “how to fix a broken blog,” “is it a mistake to tell employers you’re qualified for a job that you can’t do,” and “does eating chocolate late at night really keep you awake?” Unsurprisingly, Google couldn’t help me with one.
Next I did the mature thing and sent out a midnight e-mail to my boss titled “bLoG eMeRgEnCy!?!” I explained the problem and blamed it on everyone else besides myself. Then my boss hired an actual computer tech to fix the problem and as of right now I’m pretty sure he believed my excuse that the blog crashed because it was so offended by Tiger Woods’ behavior.
Regardless of that, I’m still telling people that I survived a heart attack. It’s a great way to get attention (read: people bringing me food in bed while I spend my days YouTubing), as well as a great excuse not to go to the gym.
Sigh. Growing up is hard.