Stumbling.

When I'm tired, I load up on coffee and loud music.

When I find I've made a mistake, I try to laugh it off instead of berating myself for it. I tell myself that, for most things, I'm making a way-bigger deal out of it than anyone else is. In fact, they may not have even noticed.

When my stomach decides to make really loud digest-y noises, I somehow think that typing extra loud on my keyboard will somehow cover up the noise, and distract my co-workers from noticing.

When someone's view of me far surpasses how I feel about myself, I tell myself that there must be some good reason they have come to that conclusion, and I try to live up to that view. I also try to not be totally embarrassed and intent on the possibility that I might let someone down.

When something awkward happens amongst a group, I'll be the first to sing out, "Awwwwwkwaaaaard!" in a comical way to try and ease the tension. (It works only sometimes.)

When I don't have time to wash my hair, it's going up in a hopefully-disguised ponytail/bun/up-do thing.

When I think about the parts of my life that haven't turn out the way I thought they would, I might get upset. But then I remind myself that what's done is done, and I think about all of those parts of my life that have surpassed what I expected them to be. I remind myself that I'm still becoming who I am, because we're eternally "becoming", aren't we? I remind myself that each day can be a new start, another step forward, a do-over. The past does not always predict or dictate the future.

And when I stumble (which I feel happens to me more often than the average bear, both literally and figuratively), I try to remember Bruce Wayne's butler Alfred's wise advice: "Why do we fall? So that we might learn to pick ourselves up."

Why hello, there, 332 mg/dL.
It's been a while.