Have you ever had one of those weeks where you pour a stiff drink, plop down onto your couch and start thumbing some complain-y tweet only to have flashbacks of you reading your old MySpace/Xanga posts and thinking “oh my god, shut up emo kid”, prompting you to tap ‘cancel’ in your favorite Twitter app?

No? Just me?

It’s been one of those kind of weeks for me.

It started Sunday as most weeks do. This Sunday was a bit special though, as it was “game night” with my partner and we were going to depart into our very first dungeon together (we both recently started playing Final Fantasy Online and have enjoyed it thus far). I knew I had about an hour before we would jump online, so I started prepping veggies for dinner and made the mistake of looking away while being over confident in my skills with a knife. Sure enough, I very easily sliced off a chunk of my finger and had to drive to urgent care. Ten minutes of sitting in the waiting room as young kids stared at my bloodied hands wide eyed, I was called in and spoke with the doctors. Thirty minutes later I was driving back home, picked up a cheeseburger and made sure to get through that first dungeon together. Not that I remember much of it, I spent a majority of it complaining about how difficult it was gaming one handed.

Move into Monday where I slowly learned that gaming wasn’t the only difficult task to perform one handed. Showering with one hand, getting dressed with one hand, coding with one hand. All substantially more difficult. I imagine my frustration of adapting to this change aided in the problem but Monday was the day my brain decided it “couldn’t even” and everything I touched code wise kept falling apart.

Onward to Tuesday. Now I’ve dropped my phone from my kitchen counter at least half a dozen times. That’s a fall of about 34-36 inches onto hardwood flooring. Every time the phone comes out just fine. Maybe a slight scuff or scar on the edge, but not cracked and working just fine. This Tuesday was different though. I had my phone loosely in my pocket and knelt down to pet one of the office dogs. The phone slipped out and fell 3-4 inches from my pocket, cracking the screen’s glass.

Wednesday is gonna be different. That was my thought before going to sleep. My progress on a lot of different side projects had been delayed and I hadn’t been able to go running all week, so my mindset was to “restart” and get back into the groove. One block from my work’s office, I got pulled over and ticketed by a cop. A speeding ticket for going 61 miles per hour in a 45 zone, conveniently one mile per hour needed to knock me into the higher ticket cost. I went back and checked to see if that was even possible in my tiny car. I needed to be flooring it because where I got ticketed was uphill and that area is notorious for being a hotspot for being pulled over. (Note: I learned you can ask to see the radar to prove how fast they claim you were going, but they don’t have too show you. Doesn’t hurt to ask I suppose)

Thursday. Today. Today has got to be a better day for sure. Until of course someone wanders onto the freeway causing a massive crash and turning a commute of normally 25 minutes into 1 hour and 48 minutes.

Sometimes you just have one of those weeks. Everything that can go wrong, will go wrong and you’ll be miserable and irritable and that’s all okay. In vlogs, status updates and public postings like this one, there is this huge emphasis on “choosing happiness” or projecting all the positivity in your life for everyone to see. Ask any public online figure and they can point to losing followers when they complain about something shitty that happened to them. It’s not healthy to fester in negativity, but it isn’t healthy to try and force happiness either. Sometimes we have really shitty things happen and we shouldn’t feel like we can’t complain about them. We are people and our realities go beyond our 31st Instagram photo of food.