Wash sums it up for me.
Dec. 10th, 2004 06:06 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
fredericksI lost my Mini-Disc player. My $140 Mini-Disc player. I'm apparently *not* well rested, because I'm still seeing things and I'm still operating with half a brain cell. I come to Brookdale, I sit down to take my last lab quiz (which I totally had my way with), the MD makes me uncomfortable, I take it off and put it on the desk next to me. Perhaps. Things are hazy. I leave the classroom, walk down to 6th Avenue, spend some time browsing in one store, take the F back to Queens, get off at Parsons to buy some pastries at a Guyanese bakery, sit down and eat a double, walk to 165th Street and catch the Q2, look in my bookbag to put my headphones on and...not there. My heart dropped. I mean, all the fucking time I was walking to 6th Ave I was contemplating putting the thing on...I would have REALIZED I didn't have it on me, and could have made my way back to Brookdale while Nick [TA] was still in the room. But something in me decided against it.
I'm trying to figure out whether I should ALL the fuckin' way back to Brookdale, or whether I should just go home and make phone calls (and send e-mails). I decided when I was nearly all the way home, even though it was 4:00 and Nick was long gone, to go back. 45 minute subway ride. While on the train I realize the soda that I'd bought at the bakery? that I idiotically put in my bookbag? was not covered properly and spilled all over everything. It was clear, so things aren't stained, but all my shit is sticky and tearing. Right, so I get off the F and it's raining harder (it's been raining since about noon). So I walk to Brookdale. Soaked. Security guard says no one reported and/or handed it in. I walk up there, go in: nothing. So either Nick picked it up on his way out, or one of my shiesty classmates has a new toy. Fuck, man. It's raining, I'm wet, and I have to trek all the way back to the F during rush hour, and then stand up until around 71st Street because I sure as hell aren't going to get a seat now. And, since mom did her last minute party-throwing thing for my brother, I'm fairly certain that dad's going to be on my case to clean the house up or help mom cook for tomorrow. I *told* her not to cook, to order pizza or something.
Long story short, I'm tired. I don't want to go home. I'm an idiot who is brainless. Nothing life or death. Just stupidity
I'm trying to figure out whether I should ALL the fuckin' way back to Brookdale, or whether I should just go home and make phone calls (and send e-mails). I decided when I was nearly all the way home, even though it was 4:00 and Nick was long gone, to go back. 45 minute subway ride. While on the train I realize the soda that I'd bought at the bakery? that I idiotically put in my bookbag? was not covered properly and spilled all over everything. It was clear, so things aren't stained, but all my shit is sticky and tearing. Right, so I get off the F and it's raining harder (it's been raining since about noon). So I walk to Brookdale. Soaked. Security guard says no one reported and/or handed it in. I walk up there, go in: nothing. So either Nick picked it up on his way out, or one of my shiesty classmates has a new toy. Fuck, man. It's raining, I'm wet, and I have to trek all the way back to the F during rush hour, and then stand up until around 71st Street because I sure as hell aren't going to get a seat now. And, since mom did her last minute party-throwing thing for my brother, I'm fairly certain that dad's going to be on my case to clean the house up or help mom cook for tomorrow. I *told* her not to cook, to order pizza or something.
Long story short, I'm tired. I don't want to go home. I'm an idiot who is brainless. Nothing life or death. Just stupidity
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no subject
Date: 2004-12-10 11:41 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-12-12 03:30 am (UTC)That word is so...comes off the tongue so nicely. You sort of purse your lips and (I, at least) grasp my lower lip a bit with my upper incisors, build up air in your lungs, and then let it all go. SO cathartic. When you're angry and not afraid of shocking other people, there really is no better non-physically aggressive way to let off steam.
Then again, it's been established that I need help. Badly.