I Dropped the Hearts of Palm

I don't know about you, but the hearts of palm was what I was most looking forward to in my make-your-own-salad-salad-bar we served at a family gathering the other day. I love hearts of palm, and I had sliced and diced the entire mega-jar of them. 

The bowl was covered and they were placed carefully into the refrigerator along with all the other salad toppings. One opening of the fridge door - and that was it for the hearts of palm.... And the bowl that was holding them. 

And I just started bawling... And swearing.  David had to come help. I couldn't bend down. The already excruciating pain I had running down my leg exploded. I started to hyperventilate. I got dizzy. I had to go sit down. 

It passed quickly. Was that a panic attack? My first panic attack was over hearts of palm?!? 

It was my mountain piling over. We all have our mountains, and - as high or low as they may be - you never know what will make it come crumbling down. 

I regrouped, made a spectacular salad, and am still ever so greatful that someone (David) was there to help me pick up the pieces - literally and figuratively.