I don’t deal with stress well. At least I don’t like change when I didn’t explicitly decide to change something.

So I was lying in bed in my cold-ass room, trying to cocoon myself mentally and physically with like four fleece throw blankets when,

 

thwop.

A stretched canvas Audrey Hepburn quote (“Nothing is impossible, the word itself says, I’m possible!”) that I bought from Claire’s because I am incredibly classy and adult fell off the photo ledge above my bed and covered my face.

And I just lay there thinking, well, alright. This is embarrassing, but I’m too consumed with anxiety to really do anything about it, the canvas is light, and if my head wasn’t currently obscured by fake art from a child’s jewelry store, I’d probably have a blanket over my head, so the result is kind of the same.

Then I started thinking about what else was on that picture ledge, namely the framed album cover from Matthew Good’s Hospital Music that should be more or less directly above me. I started thinking about what prompted the canvas to fall down, and whether it was the 2′ x 3′ piece of bristol board I had painted as a paint sample and taped to my wall the night before coming loose and taking my hastily arranged photo display along with it. I had wanted to put it somewhere else, but there was a giant spider that was nesting on my ceiling, that I had to kill with a wet Swiffer in between jokes on Weekend Update.

I rolled the dice.

30 seconds later Matt Good fell directly on my face. I would not have gambled had I known how heavy the frame was, or that I’d be taking the goddamn corner. I felt my face. No blood. Go back to sleep? Nope, giant comical knot already forming. I look like a lopsided Hellboy.

If I was a true whore I would have taken an un-iced before shot for maximum impact, but apparently I still have standards.