Remember the old Tootsie Pop commercial?

People of a certain generation will know what I’m talking about. For all the younger generations I will set the scene: a wise old owl sits in a tree and either a young boy or a tortoise (it’s been a few decades) queries as to how many licks it takes to get to the center of a tootsie roll pop. The owl says let’s find out, gets to 3 licks, then crunches right to the chewy center. And thus the question remains forever unanswered.

I don’t know why I thought about that commercial recently but it’s been popping into my mind as I’ve been wondering how many hits a person can take before their outer layer cracks and the chewy center is exposed and devoured. What is the number of insults, slights, cruelties and abuses a human soul can withstand before they crack? Because I don’t care how emotionally healthy you are, everyone has a breaking point.

I was about 12 hours into a stressful 14 hour workday this week chatting with a restaurant manager while waiting for a large to go order for the artists playing our venue that night. I felt awful from the stress of the day and an issue with another employee and at one point thought I was actually going to be sick. He made a comment about how upbeat and positive I was and I laughed saying if you only knew. 12 hours of keeping my guard up and my game face on had me ready to drop to the floor and curl up in the fetal position.

As I drove back to the venue with the food I asked myself if this was worth it. This being the large amount of sacrifice, physical cal and emotional toll I’ve been dealing with in order to stay in the city I’ve called home for almost 24 years. Is taking hit after hit worth it? If I start over somewhere new will it be any better? Or will I still feel like a human piñata one good whack away from breaking down so badly there’s no coming back.

I don’t have an answer yet. Maybe I never will. I just know that what I’m doing now isn’t working. I want that wise owl from the commercial to finally do his job and tell me how many more licks I’m expected to take. But he’s not real and no one knows how much they can take until they are in it. So for now I will congratulate myself for surviving 100% of my terrible, awful, dumpster fire days so far. Because you know what? That’s something to be proud of.