My Most Embarrassing Moment – EVER

Ok y’all. I’m going to be brave. I’m going to just put it out there. Because, if I don’t, I’m going to have to tell you all about it. Individually. And, that may just about kill me. So here goes. I have lived THE MOST EMBARRASSING MOMENT OF MY LIFE.

Here’s how it went down: I woke up this morning not feeling really great. Had a little bit of a digestive situation going on, but thought, I’m a mom. I don’t get to be sick. So, I put on my big girl panties, took some pepto, and went on my merry way. Which today, happened to be to the airport.

First, let me mention, I really hate flying. Like, panic-attack-hate-flying. So, in order to fly I take Xanax. It takes the edge off. I still panic, but in a less dramatic and obvious way, which is something I prefer. Or at least I did. Anywho, I managed to board my not-so-great-feeling, Xanax-and-pepto-drugged-self onto the flight. I’m grateful I didn’t eat a big lunch; it was a bumpy ride. There was yelping involved and not just from me.

So, I kiss the ground when I land and find the driver who is taking me to my hotel. I’m off for a work training event, the nature of which I am very excited to disclose once I get the go-ahead from the higher-ups. But, that’s in the future…

Back to the present… I’m at the hotel, and I have a few hours to kill. You know what that means for me… yep, the treadmill. I pound out a few miles, quite excited that my pace is much improved compared to running the road. Once back in my room, I down a smoothie and protein bar just in case drinking is involved at the cocktail and dinner planned. And, then I get ready. Pull on my special cocktail duds, my special high heels, and head down to the party.

The party where I meet the “big wigs” from the company I’ll be working with and others involved in the “project.” After introductions, I quickly pick up a glass of champagne. I sip on it. It tastes good. But, I feel strangely hot. Like hot-flash hot. So I excuse myself to the restroom. I try out my best, “Pull yourself together,” while touching up my makeup and return to the shindig. This is where things fall apart quickly.

I grab a glass of seltzer and re-integrate into the conversation. I start to feel hot again. Really hot. Then I get tunnel vision. This has happened a few times before, and I know… this is not going to be good. I grab the girl (a.k.a. hero of the day) standing next to me and tell her I’m not feeling well. She holds my arm and walks me off to the side. Things get dark, and then…

I wake up moments later ON THE FLOOR. Yep, my fancy butt totally PASSED OUT in front of virtual strangers at a corporate mixer. So I come too, and you know what follows???? Projectile vomiting. In glass ware. In trash cans. Everywhere. Didn’t see that one coming, did you? Feeling slightly refreshed after purging my system, I manage to sit up. Needless to say, the party had moved to another room and only those assisting with the disaster (me) were left. And just when you didn’t think it could get any worse…

In comes the FIRE DEPARTMENT!!!! Yep, they called 911 and a FIRETRUCK came. For me. Holy shit. I don’t usually cuss in my blogs, but by now, you should be proud that further expletives are not spewing from my fingertips.

So what happens, you ask, after one collapses on the floor (in a skirt), projectile vomits in front of executives and colleagues, then gets rescued by the fire department? Well, dear readers, you pull out your hair brush, touch up your lip stick, and get on with the day. We’re moms. It’s what we do best.

Please, let’s not talk about this further. Now you know. You ALL know. This is where it ends. The only regret I have is not getting a photo with the hottie firetruck rescue dude. That could have kicked this story up a notch.

Oh well. Here’s hoping I’ll make a better impression tomorrow. But, then again, how do you forget the girl that hits the floor the first time you meet her. Not sure if there’s really an impression that can top that one…