Life is a comedy (with a black humored playwright)



Once upon a time in a not so distant galaxy, I woke up next to a woman I loved. It was a sunny Monday morning and nothing hinted at what was going to happen over the next couple of days.

Happy. 

Innocent I kissed her goodbye and went to work like on any other normal day. At lunch, I took out some food with friends and sat next to the small canal in the city center.

So far so good. 

We were sitting next to the water on a stone and eating when suddenly I felt something drop on my head. Checking what it was, my hand touched some warm, sticky, greasy thing.

Bird poo. 

Wow! What fun my friends had, laughing at (and with) me. Naturally, I insisted that this was a sign of good luck and that my week was going to be awesome.

Oh the irony. 

On Tuesday, I received one of those messages we all know to mean much more than what they actually say. My girlfriend wrote: “I think we need to talk.”

Oh, boy. 

Wednesday after work we met and spoke for some time and, you guessed it, she broke up with me. I went home, cried, cried some more (yes, men do cry), and then decided that I needed a distraction.

Cheers. 🍻

I met up with my brother for a glass of whiskey to try and drown my sadness. Ok, guilty as charged, maybe it was two glasses. Jeeezus, stop bothering me, perhaps three or more, I can’t remember.

"Surely, it can’t get worse" is what you say? "Alas, this week isn’t over yet" is what I reply. 

Spent Thursday tired and hung over working on a proposal until late at night so that we could hand everything in by Friday. Come Friday, my mission was accomplished and I went to have dinner at my godmothers place.

Nothing could go wrong, right?

Wrong.

We were having dinner together when my stomach started to rumble. I excused myself, went to the bathroom, and returned to the table. Still not feeling fine, I went back to the bathroom again.

By now, I had an inkling of what was going to happen. 

Back at the table, I still didn’t feel well. And when I visited the bathroom for the third our fourth time, I, sparing you the colorful details, started to vomit like there was no tomorrow. Well, this ended dinner rather abruptly.

Food poisoning. 

I went home and to top things off I had to cancel the originally planned hiking trip with my (ex-)girlfriend and friends from university and spent my weekend running between the infamous B&B (bed & bathroom).

Life truly is a roller coaster, ay. 

Epilogue. 

The following couple of weeks and months were awful. Not just because of the break up, many things weren’t going the way I wanted them to go and I really was in a bad place. I felt miserable and my usual optimism failed me.

But every time I stared into the (metaphorical) abyss, there was someone there to back me up. I know what privilege this is and am really grateful for it.

Thus, if there is one thing I want to leave you with: be there for people in need. It won’t cost you much, but it will sure mean the world to them. And while this may sound cheesy, it’s honestly what helped me most.

Also, try to see the comedy in life. There are more than enough tragedies happening at all times. When you get the chance to change the narrative of one of them, do it. That week was terrible, but it also grants me the joy of telling a hilarious story.

Oh, and I almost forgot! Never trust bird poo. Seriously: NEVER.

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