When I lost my mind

Three crazy things I have done in my life:

1.)  Taped down my breasts when getting ready for my first high profile job interview.

With packing tape.

This decision was made after spending a good portion of an hour scrutinizing my outfit in front of the bathroom mirror and working it into my mind that my blouse wasn’t fitting quite right.  In my nervous-to-the-point-of-madness state, I came to the conclusion that my only option was to take out the tape and strap down my chest.

For the entire two hour meeting I couldn’t quite breathe properly and I kind of “crunched” each time I shifted in my seat. (For a couple of days afterwards I became paranoid about irregular hair growth after having literally waxed my chest during the ordeal of removing the tape – luckily this worry never came to fruition.)

And would you believe it, I got the job.

2.)  Flooded my mother’s kitchen.

It was the summer of 2005. I was living in Halifax and working two jobs – on the weekend I was a barista at a coffee shop, and every night (save Sunday and Monday) I worked the front of house at a downtown bar.

I absolutely loved my places of employment and my schedule was great (other than then working a double shift every Saturday.)

However, for two weeks in August the whole thing kind of blew up in my face, when I ended up covering one of my fellow employee’s weekday shifts at the coffee shop, while still working at the bar. (Of course this just so happened to overlap with the jazz festival of which my bar was a venue – which meant that instead of working four hours a night at the bar, I was working seven or eight.)

This meant that for fourteen days I was operating on about four, maybe max five hours of sleep a night, and was tired all the live long day.

But all in all it didn’t really matter, because as I said – I bloody well loved my jobs.

Anywho, one day before heading to the bar I decided that if I wasn’t going to nap I was going to clean the hous – laundry, dishes, vacuum, windows – you named it, I was going to take care of it.

Unfortunately, my plan of filling up the kitchen sink while I ran upstairs to start the washing machine went awry as soon as I forgot all about the sink and started stripping the beds and cleaning the washroom.

By the time I remembered it was too late – rivers of water were pouring into the heating vents and making their way into the living room.

I panicked. I grabbed the (kitty hair saturated) blankets that we kept on the couches to keep the cats from scratching at the upholstery and threw them onto the floor, before racing to the basement to see if any of the water had leaked down that far. Luckily it hadn’t.

Then I called a cab because there was no way I was going to make it to work on time if I were to walk. When the taxi pulled up front, I was in such a tizzy that I jumped into the front seat without thinking.

I can’t really describe how awkward it was to ride up front with that cabby except to say that I felt as though my dad was driving me to school.

Only I had to pay him.

3.)  Drank a bottle of seven dollar wine out of a booster juice cup.

My advice kids? DON’T DO THIS.

Even if it’s your last day of undergrad, and you’re totally stoked about starting grad school, and getting married later on that same summer; even if you’ve just aced your last classes, and you think you’re an invincible evil genius; and especially if you don’t drink, like, EVER, but you think it’ll be absolutely hilarious to get smashed out of your face with two of your best friends just this once.

Seriously. Just say no.

Because you’ll drink that wine, and then run about campus like the silly twenty-two year old that you are, and you’ll meet Nardwuar the Human Serviette and tell him about how watching him do the Hip Flip with Paul Martin is one of the highlights of your life, what with being the Canadian politico nerd that you are.

(This will impress no one, least of all Nardwuar who will just think you drunk and insane.)

And then at 4 o’clock in the afternoon you’ll phone your fiancée as ask him to come pick you up and take you to Dairy Queen where you’ll order two servings of popcorn shrimp, but only eat the shrimp and not the French fries because you’re trying  to be healthy.

And if you still do this? Be sure to drink those two liters of water he gives you before you pass out at seven o’clock that evening.

It will save your life and allow you to blog about it years, and years later.