How to Make a Nervous Breakdown Fashionable

I've recently come to the conclusion that I am probably having a bar-related nervous breakdown.  I realize that some of my readers might be going through some similar experiences, so I thought I might write-up a "how to" primer for making your nervous breakdown as elegant, fashionable, and respectable as possible.


When a coffee shop Barrista asks you how your day is going, never tell the truth.  
Back in the beginning of this hell-scape we call "bar review," when coffees shop employees would ask me, "how's it going?" I would answer, "really, really bad, if i'm going to be honest with you." While this type of candor might be appreciated in a session with your psychologist, apparently it is not really appreciated in the Barrista/Customer relationship.  But you don't want to seem overly chipper, because who likes that girl? So the best response is this:

Barrista: How's it going?
First, you must Smize - which, for those of you NOT fluent in Tyra Banks means, "smiling with your eyes."  After you've done this, you then look off in the distance and channel your best impression of Sally Fields and gently say...
You: Oh, you know.   


Be sure to empty the entirety of your bag out onto your table, even if you are not using all of that material.  
This is something I've learned the hard way.  In public places, tables are at a premium. However, there is nothing worse than being that overly stressed person who has to sit in close proximity to a stranger.  No bueno.  So step 1: always commandeer two tables.  But after you do this, you have to take it to the next level to ensure you have your requisite amount of space.  So, step 2: lay it all out on the table.  Literally.  I literally put every single pen, highlighter, flash card, book, notepad, post-it pad, and 3 different cups(for good measure) on the table.  This way, a) when some octogenarians are looking for an empty chair to pop a squat, they are not even THINKING about approaching me even though I have some extra space and b) when I start putting my head in my hands, or hyperventilating, or chewing on ice, or covering myself with insect repellent right there in the coffee shop, no one is really thinking twice about it.  Instead of saying, "WTF is going on over there with that weirdo?" they are saying, "poor thing, just look at her...she has 10 different stacks of color-coded flashcards..."

Let your hair go natural. 
I am someone who never takes a shower without blowing dry my hair.  Never.  But somehow, in these last few weeks, I just find that raising my arm up like that is just too...hard.  I think the last time I attempted to blow dry my hair, I dropped the dryer onto the ground, stared at it for about 6 minutes, and began wondering if they would give me an extra week to take the bar if I was somehow involved in a house fire.  Then someone knocked on my door, and like a 14 year old boy caught with a playboy magazine, I immediately came to action, and stuffed my hairdryer into a closet.  Needless to say, I haven't really had the energy to use it since.  But I'm finding that I garner much more respect with my hair at its natural lioness mane state.  Let me tell you, no one f-cks with someone with a strong head of hair.  Have you ever seen those lawyers with long flowing locks of gray hair that is so long it hits their shoulders?  Let's take a look at one of my current New Orleans Attorney Hair Inspirations.

RESPECT. 

Stress Eating: No One Needs to Know. 
It is very unfashionable to stress eat in front of people. No one wants to see you chomping down on an industrial sized bag of cheetos, Britney-Spears-at-a-Gas-Station-Style. When availing yourself of the free samples offered up at your local Whole Foods, or other such establishment, make a couple of laps around the store so that no one person sees you helping yourself to thirds, or fourths or fifths.  One time I saw a man use the tongs to put, no exaggeration, 1/2lb of miniature cheese cube samples into his hands, and I was HORRIFIED. I thought to myself, "here is one person who is hitting rock bottom."  Sure, I might take that much over time.  But not in one sitting!  I liken my free-food sampling to gulf coastline erosion - a piece of cheese here, some corn salad there...and before you know it? No more Morgan City, Louisiana.  Another tip: when going back for your fourths or fifths or sixths, always look surprised, as if you had NO IDEA there were chip and guac samples around that corner. 

If you faint, make sure to downplay it.  
Yesterday I was somehow talked into going "fishing" with my father.  The reason I put the term in quotation marks is because we actually caught 0 fish, and the closest I got an animal was when my father asked me to thread a hook through the head of a minnow, and I began to scream like I had seen Justin Bieber.  This is all besides the point.  Apparently this fishing jaunt, coupled with the sun and my impending total nervous breakdown, caused me to faint after I got home.  But because I fainted in such an elegant fashion at first, I'm not entirely sure my family noticed me, lying supine on the couch.  Finally I began yelling out, "WATER"  at which point all hell broke loose.  Around the time my parents were forcing me into a blood-pressure cuff, screaming at each other about whether I should go to the hospital, I realized that drawing attention to yourself is not the way to go about this at all.   Loved ones prefer not to know you've fainted, I think. It is better to mention the fainting incident in passing.  Example:

Loved One: How was your day?
You: (again, channeling your inner Sally Fields..) Oh, you know.  Sometimes you get the dizzies and need to sit down.  Good thing studying doesn't require you to be on your feet! (Cue ladylike laughter).

This is, by the by, NOT the way the my fainting spell was addressed.  Here is a transcription:

Mother: Why are you screaming about water? I'm not a maid.
Lil Layne: Oh, you know, because I FAINTED.  No big deal. I just feel like I'm going to die. But I'm sure that whatever random person's wedding photos you need to look at take priority over my health. 
Mother: What is your blood pressure? Have you taken your blood pressure?
Father: (sprinting into the room, no doubt lured in by the words, "death" and "blood pressure," which are like the siren calls from the Odyssey for anyone of medicare age) Who died? What blood pressure? What's going on?
Mother: Layne is feeling faint, maybe we need to go to the doctor?
Lil Layne: (channeling her inner Jessie Spano) THERE'S NO TIME.  THERE'S NEVER ANY TIME.  (Runs out of the den, sprints up the stairs, and collapses on her bed).