For the past three weeks, I've been commuting to school. This is me, acting the part of the innocent commuter, waiting for the bus.
This particular bus would take this above-mentioned innocent commuter to the other side of the city, thus causing her to speed-walk twenty-two blocks to get to class on time.
Oh this cruel life.
But after crying a bit and calling my mum, everything was made okay.
So, now I'm unemployed and no longer a student and it's more of an identity crisis than I thought it would be. I still have things to do, but I have to pick the main focus of my day.
I'll tell you a story to amuse you.
Once I had a friend, who was not a friend. The moment I realized this was emotional. Friends are not made easily in this big tough world. They might seem made, but they're more like a sand castle than the steady concrete wall you can lean on.
Wave in, wave out. There they go. Nice knowing you...
This story isn't very amusing. I'll try another.
Once upon a time there was a small boy who would not eat his breakfast muffin. He was allergic to processed fats and sugar and bleached flour. Unfortunately, his mother did not realize this and chalked up his resistance to youthful rebellion. Thus, young Jim Bob silently at the muffins and suffered from low energy and a bad complexion.
When he was old enough, he spoke to his mother and asked her if she would please get him some plain Greek yogurt and some healthful strawberries?
Relieved, she obliged and Jim Bob lived happily ever, trans-fat free, in his New Hampshire home.
Listening to Waking Ashland - Shades of Gray