Questions To Ask Yourself Before You Freak Out

Life advice from Abby:

sweat

I would like to think I never overreact.

It’s not true, but I would like to think that about myself. The truth is that sometimes something like my spoon falling into my oatmeal can garner the same reaction from me as having to go to the hospital again or call a guy to remove a raccoon from my chimney–all three things that have happened entirely too much these past couple months. 

SPOON INTO THE OATMEAL, PEOPLE. 

Anyway, because I’m a helper, I decided to create a guide of sorts with a few questions you can ask yourself the next time you feel like flying off the handle.

Are you in the pasta aisle of the grocery store?

Good call. Pasta is delicious, but this is a maniacal maze of shapes, sizes, and sometimes even colors that if considered for too long, will drive even the most sane person to madness.

Do you want long or short? Small, medium, or large shells? Ziti? Rotini? Penne? Elbow? Bow tie? I DON’T KNOW I JUST WANT TO SMOTHER IT IN PESTO!

What to do:

Keep your eye on the prize–pasta, pesto, and other edible things that may or may not start with “p.”

Consider 1) the damage-to-clothes-while-consuming ratio–what affords you the least chance of spillage, 2) how much fork work you want to do –longer means more twirling while short means more stabbing and 3) why no one has invented macaroni made out of cheese in the first place.

Are you running?

Are you attempting to move at a rapid pace while wearing neon spandex? Are your muscles burning, along with your lungs and calories you just consumed from inhaling the eight pounds of pasta you just made because you can never figure out the right serving size? 

What to do:

Unless you are being chased by a wild animal, just stop. While physical exercise is vital, jarring your body up and down on hard pavement is not. No one should have to endure that. Cease and desist immediately. Take off your Nikes, post on social media about how you just went for a run, and nama-stay on the couch in corpse pose to recover. Power yoga for the win!

Are you dealing with Comcast?

Have you been on hold for 45 minutes? Are you refreshing your browser every .03 seconds and restarting your router only to get the same browser error? THIS IS A LEGIT REASON TO PANIC!!!

What to do:

Unfortunately, there are some things out of your immediate control, and you will probably find yourself going through the five stages of grief–denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance–while on hold for the third hour. This is natural. Let it happen.

When you’re finally connected to a person who assures you that they’re working on the problem, let them know you’ll be “working” on paying your bill whenever you get around to it. Once your connection is restored, be sure to make at least four jokes about “Comcrap” on social media. This appeases the gods.

Are you reading an inspirational quote?

Are there uncomfortable words like, “success” and “motivate” or reference to “Keeping Calm and Doing Something Completely Random” shared by someone you thought as a “friend?”  You might be reading an inspirational quote.  

What to do: 

Distance yourself from that person immediately. Block. Unfriend. Do what you have to do to remove yourself from that situation. You don’t need that kind of pressure in your life, especially if you’re shopping for pasta that night. . 

Are you driving?

Are you behind the wheel of a motor vehicle, minding your own business and putting down an awesome version of Uptown Funk to the zero passengers in your car? Are you the only effing person on the planet who knows how to slightly lift one finger to use a turn signal or go the speed limit in the left lane OH MY GOD YOU DON’T HAVE TO BRAKE WHEN YOU’RE MERGING ONTO THE HIGHWAY!

What to do: 

Actually, if you’re already yelling that at a high volume and using selective hand gestures as you pass the idiot driving with their head up their ass, you’re already doing okay. Gold star. Keep those roads safe. 

Were you eating and now you’re not eating? 

Scene: You were eating. You reached for what you thought was the last bite of food, only to realize you had already eaten the last bite of food and now you’re so emotionally unprepared that you don’t know what you can do. Now you’re not eating. Now you’re sad. 

What to do: 

Wipe the tears and the crumbs from your face, take a deep breath and evaluate the situation. Is there possibly a piece of pita you dropped on the couch? Maybe under your napkin? If not, I suggest you go towards the light, and by that I mean the light in your fridge.

Remember, hummus is the spackle that can fill a hole in your heart.

If after asking these questions you still feel like freaking out, just make sure to do it loudly and in a public setting so we can enjoy the show. I’ve found sometimes people will even throw you some tips. I’ve made $24 this year alone which is enough for a cart full of pasta…

BUT OH MY GOD WHAT KIND?!? Here we go again.  

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18 responses to “Questions To Ask Yourself Before You Freak Out

  1. Hilarious
    “make at least four jokes about “Comcrap” on social media. This appeases the gods.”
    Does this mean there’s any hope when in less than 24 hrs later, it goes out again and you have to call and start front the beginning? – “A person. Want to speak with a real person, phone menu.” (Insert smashing sounds here)

  2. I just went back for my last bite and as I’m the only one here so I must have eaten it but I can’t REMEMBER so now I think the house is haunted. An hilarious post, always a bonus to laugh out loud when reading.

  3. It’s not true, but I would like to think that about myself.

  4. I sweat everything, regardless of size. It’s why I shower a lot and age quickly.

  5. I don’t get upset while driving. I just make everyone GET THE HELL OUT OF MY WAY ALREADY.

  6. Oh Abby, how I do love thee. Your psychosis and mine seem similar, particularly when it comes to driving. I mean the blinker is right there. IT’S RIGHT FUCKING THERE!!! Anywho, pasta makes a difference. My kids love Kraft Mac n Cheese, (as do I), but only the regular box. The shapes are not the same. They’re somehow different and worse and wrong. “The pasta tastes the same,” some might say. Well, some are wrong and can shove it up their asses.

  7. If you want to cover your pasta made of cheese then, obviously, you choose the tortellini.

    And this? ?Are you behind the wheel of a motor vehicle, minding your own business and putting down an awesome version of Uptown Funk to the zero passengers in your car? Are you the only effing person on the planet who knows how to slightly lift one finger to use a turn signal or go the speed limit in the left lane OH MY GOD YOU DON’T HAVE TO BRAKE WHEN YOU’RE MERGING ONTO THE HIGHWAY!”

    Seriously, WHAT IS WRONG WITH SOME PEOPLE?!

  8. I find if you stand in the pasta aisle and just scream, “PASTA!” repeatedly, eventually someone will shove a random box of it into your hands to try and shut you up, and there’s your choice made for you! Problem solved.

  9. Well I THOUGHT I no longer sweated the small talk, til I read this post! But it reminded me that I need to work out, call crap cast and figure out what to make for em effing dinner. I’m starting to feel sweaty…

  10. *stuff, not talk. However I really hate small talk.

  11. HAHAHAHAAH…awesome!!!!

  12. Hilarious as always. Abby, I like your issues.

  13. Hummus is indeed the spackle that can fill the hole in your heart. And pita is the primer….Your tastes are very much after my own heart. Hummus and pita + pasta and pesto = staff of life. I really enjoyed that. Thank you!

  14. Abby, this might be my favorite blog post that you’ve EVER WRITTEN.

    Seriously, it’s like you’re inside my brain and you KNOW MY VERY SOUL.

  15. Hilarious! OMG! Comcrap! AND OH! I hate when I think I have one more bite of food when in reality someone has clearly SNATCHED it! This happens ALL the time to me especially with ice cream. Pretty sure it a trick from the gods to test my calm. Well done. I really like your writing! Keep it coming!

  16. Omg! This is so hilarious. Good job, Abby!

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