I am not quite sure how to react what happened to me today. It was so sudden, and I don’t even know how I am going to be able to put it into words. Sometimes I just feel so overwhelmed with emotions that pop out of nowhere. It’s “all a part of growing up”… but I never really thought it could happen to me. I tend to be pretty constant when it comes to my moods. Even when I am angry or sad I can usually at least force a smile or spurt out a laugh or two..
But today, it was the strangest thing. It was a normal day. I just recently chopped my hair off into a sort of punk rocker version of a pixie cut so everyone is noticing me. Even people I have not talked to in months. I’m not necessarily used to all the attention. I have very many friends and all, but only a few do I really talk to on a regular basis. But anywho, today is the end of the quarter so we got out of school at eleven. Yes, crazy. I know. We had 23 and 24 minute classes. It is quite honestly ridiculous, but who am I to complain? Less school = happiness. But.. not today. Well, not really.
To start things off, I am nearly seventeen and I have yet to even get my license. Now, this would not be such a huge deal if my dad had not told me for the past year that he would take me to get my license. Obviously that happened considering there’s just over 40 days till my birthday and I have yet to at least take drivers ed. So, considering all of this, I still have to ride that over-sized Twinkie thing called a bus. With poop brown seats and whatever that material it is that they’re made of, about fifty thousand kids, and the majority of them haven’t even heard of the word deodorant.. or manners. The bus is quite honestly one of my least favorite places to be. I’ve been riding one for far too long, and I am over it. With that aside, it was a great start to my extra early release day. Then I realized I left my lunch at the school. So, I dropped my bag off at work which is decently close to the school and started walking. And to be honest, I am quite glad I left my lunch there. The walk was nice. It was that great kind of walking weather: all crisp but not too cold, no wind, leaves rustling about… it was quite nice. With my music on, I made it to the school and back to Bom Dia, my work. Yadda yadda yadda, I’m sure you want to hear this whole story.
So after hanging out at work for a wee bit, I started towards downtown to meet my boyfriend, Andrew, because he offered to give me a ride back to my house so I would not have to ride the city bus. The city bus however, is at least bearable. It’s almost cleaner, it doesn’t smell bad, and there are about one hundredth the people and they actually know what “talking quietly” means. But, Andrew offered to give me a ride anyway. He picked me up, but I still had to go to the bank and then the library and he had to be at an appointment by 3:30.. he picked me up at 3:00. My house is 10 minutes from where we were.. so there would have been no way that he would have been on time if he took me home. I mean, I at least got to see him, but I didn’t get to really hang out with him for more than 10 minutes-ish. Not to mention he left in a fluster. I feel bad because I feel somewhat responsible; making him drive all the way downtown only to drive right back where he was. Cool. So there was that.
Then, to my luck, when I said hi to my dad, it just so happens that he brought up my progress report that I should be bringing home soon. I just walked away as I did not want to answer him because I know my grades are bad. Well, I know of two grades that are bad: Math and History. On that note, I was quite frustrated. I know my grades are bad.. but I just feel about negative motivation. Even though I know I should have motivation, I still don’t really.
Bank.. check.
Library was next.
I made my way downtown towards the library, and boy will I tell you. With this daring of a haircut, people really do notice you. I can’t really decide if I like it or not. Just so many people look at me, sometimes funny, sometimes with disgust, sometimes with envy. But, I think I can come to a conclusion that little ol’ Bend Oregon does not deserve this haircut. Dear Bend, would you stop being so damn conservative? Everyone acts as if I… if I… if I murdered someone just by simply cutting my hair! Damn.. It’s obnoxious. I renewed my books at the library and still had some time before the bus would arrive. I walked over to my favorite coffee shop, Thump, got a cookie and took a seat.
People-watching in a coffee shop is almost as entertaining as in an airport. You have the interweb-bums that buy a single drink and hunker down for a whole day doing God knows what. You have the know-it-alls who order a drink and think they know everything about coffee, but in fact, they do not. Working in a coffee shop has taught me so much, and I can assure you, adding another shot of decaf to your skinny non-fat, sugar-free, white chocolate mocha with whip cream will not make a difference, sweetheart. Your why-bother drink is so absurd to begin with. Leave the poor Thump barista’s alone and let them do their jobs without you watching them like a hawk as if you know a damn speck about anything that has to do with coffee. And finally, you have your good Samaritans. A homeless man walked into Thump to get some water and trailing right behind him was a woman with her two kids. She looked like your average “soccer mom.” She tapped his shoulder and said quite simply, yet sweetly,
“Excuse me sir, are you hungry? Do you want something to eat?” and taken aback slightly, he just stared at her for a second.
“Well.. that would be so kind of you ma’am. But I did just ate..”
“Are you sure? Do you want a coffee or something? I’ll get you anything you want.” She smiled sweetly.
“Um..” he cleared his throat, “Well, a coffee would be nice. It is a bit cold outside.”
“Alright! You got it. What kind of coffee?” he said something else, but I didn’t hear him. He walked out and she and her sons waltzed over to the line. After they got the coffee, she and her kids went over to where the sugar and cream is and they grabbed about a million things of creamer, sugar (of both splenda and real sugar because they didn’t know which he liked), and about ten stirring sticks. The look on his face melted my heart when the littlest boy accidentally dropped all the sugars on the man’s blanket. He looked so happy and thankful. I could tell the kids felt happy, too.
There need to be more people in this world like those three. I guess I can say this was the highlight of my day.
As the clock neared the time in which I needed to head to the bus stop, I took one last look around the coffee shop. I took in a deep sweet breath of the smell of coffee, pastries, and grabbed my plate. I walked towards the bus stop very slowly for I did not need to be there for another 10 minutes. Something got to me on that walk. I’m not sure what. But apparently I got bit by the “I’m-going-to-make-you-so-randomly-emotional-that-you’re-going-to-completely-break-down-into-tears-on-the-bus” bug. So, that’s precisely it. I plopped down in my seat on the bus and almost instantaneously my throat started to do that cloggy-up thing right before you have a cry. Next thing I knew, the tears were streaming down my face. And of course, just my luck, I chopped off my hair so there was nothing I could hide my face with. So basically, the whole bus – or 5 people – could see me having a complete breakdown over quite literally nothing. My shoulders were shaking uncontrollably, the tears were without doubt, nowhere near stopping, but I had my headphones in full blast so I just let it continue. I buried my face into my hands and only every once in a while did I pull up from that position to see where we were so I knew where to get off the bus. I finally made it home after walking about two miles. I didn’t even bother putting my stuff away when I got into my room. I threw my bag on the ground, curled up in my blanket, and just had a cry for about 10 minutes. Over nothing… or maybe, it is all over everything. Jesse, missing my mom, grades, impressing my dad, getting a license, money, working, babysitting, homework, nagging teachers, crazy friends…
I think I just hit a wall. I just am overwhelmed. Yet, at the same time I know I am not. There are so many people out there that have harder lives than me. So it only makes me wonder if I am being dramatic, which is one of my biggest worries. Unless it is a joke, I hate being dramatic, and people that are dramatic. So, when I get in these moods, I only make it worse for myself because I beat myself up over the fact that I think I am being dramatic. But then I wonder.. am I being dramatic? Or am I really overwhelmed and frustrated and confused and angry? Yet… during the day, I can somehow forget about it all and be my normal self to at least 95%. But… if someone is truly overwhelmed and all that jazz, aren’t they depressed during the day as well? Maybe I am just overreacting? Or maybe I am just really good at faking happy. Or maybe I really am happy during the day, but then too much time by myself only proves to be about three pages in a Word Document of typing and about a half a cup or more of tears. Cool. So which is it? I feel like there will never really be an answer to this.
I just feel so unhappy. Yet, at the same time, I feel incredibly lucky and happy.
It all is quite confusing. I guess for now, I’ll just keep pretending. I guess for now I’ll just “fake it ‘til you make it.” It’ll have to do right?
I’ll figure it out, right? I have to. I have to.. I really do.
Fuuuuuck.
