... throw them back and say "I didn't ask for lemons!"
Yes, on occasion, folks, my smiley disposition drops and I go from full blown joy to miserable wreck.
I cry, stomp my feet and feel the world may have turned on me. That secretly everyone hates me and has been plotting for my demise since that very day I was removed from my mother at lightening speed.
On these days, I recommend you do three things.
1) Cry! Wear mascara - it makes it more dramatic.
2) Reflect! Why am I crying? Am I angry? Sad? Or do I actually just have something in my eye?
3) Get out of the bed/house/brothel! Change the sights, change the perspective. Maybe that will change my mind. Or at least I will have moved a tiny bit that day and therefore deserve the doughnut.
One of the big myths of life, mainly created by our wonderful Social Media flourish, is that everyone is having a great time, all the time. So when we're not having a great time, we think WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME? I MUST BE FAILING AT LIFE. I do not always have photos of me smiling in a pool. I am not always in a car with 4 friends playing loud music. I actively avoid parties but then worry that I have no pictures of me at parties when everyone else seems to always be at parties. Side note - does anyone actually really like parties? I have never met anyone at a party who wasn't planning their escape from said party.
Take note, child! YOU ARE NOT FAILING. You are you. The tears of a clown are a real thing. But don't let them ruin your (neurological) make-up. We are complicated things. Monkeys with jobs. I know I can be kind, generous and trail blazing WHILST being the BFF to all the SAPs (Super Awesome Peeps) but sometimes I just want to eat a banana and throw shit at passers by.
It's like a traffic jam of mind misery. You can't imagine getting through to the other side. Will you even get a break at the service station? And if you do, will it have an M&S? The misery jam will pass. You just got to sit it out. Hopefully without a Magic Tree spoiling the view (why do people want their car to smell like a toilet bowl?).
So when life gives you lemons, have a look and then send them back with a handwritten note
"I didn't order these!"
Because lemonade, like Stepford-smiles, is SO 1972.