I don’t think yesterday would have been the day that I had ended up choking if I hadn’t been laid off recently.

I visit St. Petersburg once or twice a week, but almost never on a Monday. Due to the fact that I had no work the next day, I went to hang out with a friend who’s going through a tough time right now. He wasn’t home when I arrived, so I stopped by CVS and did the thoughtful thing and grabbed a card. Filled it out, slipped it through the door…and went to Taco Hell for a late night meal.

2AM on Tuesday morning, the mix of taco sauce, hydrocodone, and Advair was enough to loosen my lungs up and upset my stomach. Then I coughed up the Nerf ball. I guess it had been decided that I should leave the world. Or maybe it was time to teach me a lesson of some sort? Or maybe I just needed to get rid of the thing and it happened to happen just then.

If it had been decided that I should leave the world, then somebody’s mind changed while I was choking and let me live. What made the mind change? Am I supposed to do something in return for that? To whom do I do that “something”?

What lesson was I supposed to learn? The only thing I learned from it was that it was probably time to make a living will just in case something happened to me.

I personally think that it was fate (as I don’t believe in destiny). The insurance from the company that I was with runs out on Friday, June 30th. I would probably have never done what was needed to cough up that Nerf ball if I hadn’t lost the job. I’m really glad that it happened before the insurance ran out, and I think it was meant to. There really is a silver lining on every cloud.

Now it hurts to cough. I figure I probably need to exercise the diaphragm after talking to a friend of mine.