I haven’t posted anything in a while, but I promise I have a good reason: my face keeps exploding with blood.
For a while now, I’ve had uncontrollable, 20 minute-long nosebleeds. Not the cute, action movie kind of nosebleeds, either. It’s like the scene with the river of blood coming out of the elevator in The Shining, but, you know, on my face.
Normally, this would be very upsetting. There’s a certain expression people get when you’re talking to them and your nose suddenly starts gushing blood. It’s a mixture of horror, worry, and disgust that assures you you will have no friends by the time you’ve stopped. It keeps happening at work, which is incredibly inconvenient, and no one could be blamed for assuming I’ve begun a horrible crime spree after seeing me walk across campus covered in bloodstains. This should be a seriously awkward issue for me. Lately, however, it’s awesome.
Possible Explanations for the Fountain of Blood that Used to Be My Face
1) Maybe I keep running into things with so much force that I immediately forget it happened.
2) Perhaps I have a superpower of which I was not previously aware. I have no idea how to control it. I guess if an evil-doer held still long enough, I could stand over them and drown them. At the very least, I could gross them out.
3) I live in a desert. I guess they’re really dry?
4) It keeps happening when I’m upset. There’s a distinct possibility that I’m so bad at expressing emotions, they cause me to start spurting blood all over my friends and colleagues. (IN A FUN WAY.)
See, I’ve had what some people would call a “rough week.” The only way I can describe it is by saying it feels like life has punched me in the face. Actually…
Possible Explanations for the Fountain of Blood that Used to Be My Face (Continued)
5) Life has literally punched me in the face.
Evidence I’ve Personally Wronged Karma in Some Way
1) I stopped seeing this guy because he started “seeing” someone else. At the same time.
2) I accidentally got lost in the desert for four hours with no water and, more importantly, no melanin.
3) There was an absurdly large fire burning through my hometown, uncomfortably close to my house.
4) WebMD told me I’m either reacting badly to some medication I’m taking, or I’m schizophrenic. I’m not taking any medication. (This one is my own fault. Surely there are better hobbies than using WebMD’s Symptom Checker for fun.)
5) I’ve had a Christmas carol stuck in my head all week, no matter what I do.
6) I received a bill from my school for $700,324,653. How does one accrue a debt of over seven hundred million dollars? I would have had to take every class my university offers, like, thirty times. I’m accumulating a 1% interest every month, but the letter says I can pay it in manageable 10% chunks. Paying $70 million a month sounds more reasonable. They’d better let me keep every building on campus when I graduate.
7) The whole “uncontrollable bleeding from the face” thing.
If there was ever a week that called for distress, it’s this one, but I have a serious problem with crying.
Several years ago, I tried to “find myself”. (I hate that phrase. It makes me imagine a scenario in which I leave my clone at a gas station, then have to drive 200 miles back to pick her up, only to find her crouching behind a trashcan, nervously eating licorice until she pukes. “Oh! THERE you are! Please… please stop throwing up.”)
Being of a pseudoscientific bent, I decided the best way to find myself was to take a series of personality tests. Some of the tests were incredibly enlightening. Many more of them were incredibly stupid. The thing is, almost every test, from “Which Movie Villain Are You?” (Hannibal Lecter. TIP: If this applies to you, too, don’t bring it up at fancy dinner parties.) to the Myers-Briggs Type Indicator (INTJ. Basically I’m a socially awkward robot.), revealed the same information: I’m not great at “feelings” or whatever.
For some reason, displays of emotion always leave me either laughing inappropriately or staring haplessly at whoever is making a scene. I approach tears the way TSA approaches suspicious packages at the airport. It’s not that I think it’s a sign of weakness or anything; I don’t like to cry because I’m very shallow and it does unpleasant things to my face. Therefore, I maintain that these nosebleeds have been the best thing ever.
Nothing shuts down a sobfest quite like blood spurting from an orifice. Any time I start to feel sorry for myself, I get distracted by more immediate issues like finding a sink I can occupy for the next 30 minutes, and not bleeding on anyone I love. Sometimes I get out a few tears, but they stop as soon as I realize I have less than a second to find a tissue or risk staining my favorite T-shirt. There’s really no way to keep feeling sad when you’re standing in a public restroom with tissue up your nose. You have to laugh at yourself and your situation. (Carefully. Because there’s nothing more painful than accidentally snorting Kleenex.) Plus, nosebleeds give you some time to reflect. I’m going to get over all of these things.
All My Problems, Solved
1) The wildfire near my house is 90% contained. Woo!
2) My sunburn will peel any day now. Could this be the year I finally get a base tan? (No.)
3) Shockingly, the $700 million dollar bill turned out to be a typo. The actual amount I owe is more like $0.00. It’s also given me some really good excuses. “Man, I really wish I could go to that shady bar with you tonight, but I gotta save up to pay my $700 million bill. You know how it is.”
4) I’m probably only a hypochondriac, not schizophrenic.
5) There’s an awful Ke$ha song out there waiting to shove the Christmas carol out of my head.
6) Who has time for a relationship when there are so many homeless cats?
7) I don’t want the nosebleeds to stop. They’ve given me some much-needed meditation time. Maybe they’re the best thing that’s happened to me this week.
(Just kidding. Please stop, nose. I’m not sure what I did to you to deserve this, but I promise it won’t happen again.)