The Natatorium

An emporium of oddities from around the world, complete with somewhat informative plaques that almost never match the item they are meant to be describing.

Wednesday, November 05, 2003

Today was a bad day. Or at least, a not-as-good-as-other-days-day. I won't say I've had a bad day when I still have my health, my home, and all my friends and family. Sort of.

I had to dress up like a "senior citizen" today for AP Pysch, as an experiment, but I'm afraid I didn't do a very good job of going over-the-top; as such, it just sort of looks like I chose a very bad outfit, with very dorky shoes. That wasn't the bad part.

I did quite poorly on a Calculus quiz because of a trivial detail in notation that I forgot to add to each problem. Then in Psych, a practice test was due today that I thought wasn't due until tomorrow, so I went through and circled "b" for every question, earning me a whopping 15 points out of 61.

Yesterday it was nearly 80 degrees outside; now it's 50. It was a bit of a shock when I stepped outside, but I had my old-lady cardigan to keep me warm.

I saw him today. Kind of. I didn't know it, but he was parked next to me, so when we were walking to our cars we ended up near each other. At first I thought maybe he wouldn't recognize me, but then I realized my rapidly deteriorating straw purse would give me away, if nothing else would. It was a little bit of work to pretend I didn't know he was there, but it wasn't any work at all to pretend I didn't care. When I saw the other teen girls around me squealing a running for their cars, I realized that I didn't mind the cold at all. The frigid air doesn't feel so cold when your heart is colder.

Then he was in line behind me as we waited to leave the parking lot. I was just waiting for him to let someone from another row pull out in front of him, so he wouldn't have to feel the discomfort of my gaze on him from the rearview mirror. I tugged my hair out my old-lady bun (aka how I wear my hair every day now) and tried to shake the cobwebs of memory from it.

When I had first gotten into my car, I had listened to my body and turned on the heat. Halfway home, I listened to my soul and turned it off, rolling down the windows. I wanted to feel the wind biting at my neck. I listened to Coldplay. I think if my soul could scream, it would sound like Politik.

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