Sometime Last Week

Do you remember when I was so, so mad on Thursday? I was sitting in a computer lab on campus. I was working on homework, chatting a little, blogging a lot, trying to be funny. Do you remember this? Then in the middle of the afternoon I received an email. I stared at the screen, my eyes left-to-righting words of a message I was so, so confident I wouldn’t receive. I read them again, and the words blurred as tears welled over my pupils. I thought I had a chance. I thought I had a good chance. A damn good chance. But they showed me; they stuck it to me. My good-enoughness went back onto the balance, and it doesn’t have enough weight. It doesn’t have enough, which would have left me with goodness, but I don’t have enough of that, either. I don’t have leverage. I can’t tip the scale; instead, it catapults me into oblivion. The void engulfs my nothingness.

With tears rolling down my cheeks, I gathered my things and logged off the computer. I went to the bus stop and waited until the bus came, and I got on. Do you remember? I was so, so mad, and I was on the bus, and I was so preoccupied I missed my stop, but I snapped out of it in time to get off at the next stop and walk up to my apartment. I went into my room and closed the door and turned on my laptop. With a clenched jaw and a fresh supply of tears, I sent a courtesy email. I climbed into my bed and pulled the covers over my head and slept until I woke up with a compounded headache. I went to dinner with friends feeling bad for being so distracted, but lightning storms and free ice cream helped me feel better. Interestingly, so did talking about the apocalpyse and Prop 8.

That last bit is what I’d like most to remember. You know, lightning and ice cream and conversation. I’m really grateful for my friends.

A little discussion.

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