November 13, 2012

The Blood Drive

So you know when you get in a tight spot and do something unmentionable? Something horrifically appalling? Something you only tell a small handful of your friends (while crying with laughter)?

Something that ends up being completely, fantastically genius??

Once upon a time, I was in college. I did not have kids (and the 43928 packages of wipies and napkins and tissues with which my car is currently heavily stocked). I was a ticking disaster of a bomb, naive of the "real world" and its messiness.

And I was driving home from work.

(Yes, this will be illustrated. Contain your excitement. And your judgy judging of my lifelong propensity for comfy pants.)

 ****Another 15 seconds of frantic scrambling in which I turned up a PEN and decided I had to reexamine my previous options****

And that is how I sat in stopped traffic for 10 minutes, looking directly ahead and cursing my ill-fated life.

But there's more. Because when that stupid bloody nose finally stopped, I was still ten minutes away from my house and burdened with a used (albeit creatively used) feminine product...


All conceivable options were either a) potentially and deathly embarrassing to me or b) disastrously horrifying to anyone else witnessing any aspect of said feminine product.

I chose B. And that's all I'll say. Although I will say someone somewhere has an accompanying story to this nightmare...and maybe is in shock therapy...but possibly is marketing some tampon-shaped nose plug and making a mint.

The End.