I'm in love and I'm happy. Never make the mistake of thinking I am not happy.
It's just that occasionally, I'm wistful. I would love for my first to be my last, to have a high school sweetheart and be happy for all eternity but I get sad at that thought too. It's like that HIMYM episode where you hear two ways of saying "Aw, Marshall and Lily have only slept with each ither." It's cute but it's also a little sad. Is that it? Do I have to give up being happy and in love to experience what someone else's skin feels like?
I believe in monogamy. It's ok to love more than one person and even at the same time but you don't express that to more than one person at a time. It's not fair on the heart any other way.
So I daydream every once in a while about the guys at school. And sometimes the girls. And of course, the odd teacher. I don't know why but my brain just jumped straight to Mrs. Kumar. I have NEVER thought about her like that o.O
But yes, sometimes I look at the people I know and wonder what they would feel like, how we would work, if they would make me happy. Sometimes I wonder if I'm missing out by falling so hard for someone so young. I would give up anything for my partner but would it be worth it?
Brought to you by my Android from the bathtub, where most of my epiphanies occur.
26 March, 2012
23 March, 2012
Home again, home again.
It's been a LONG time since I stopped in at Lemons. High school has been keeping me busy. It's nothing like I expected. Essentially, yes. There are teachers and students and classrooms and bathrooms that smell like menthol cigarettes but it's still not what my brain was preparing me for.
The tiredness is worst. I can get up at 7.30 after going to bed past midnight no problems but that isn't how I'm tired. I've found that I'm tired as I work. Take today for instance. I was concentrating on my History SAC, focusing so hard on the right answer that I had moments where I felt the need to faint. I was honestly surprised when I reached the end of the SAC and was still conscious. I also feel more of the 'over it' kind of tired rather than the 'sleepy' kind. The thought of putting up with the bitchiness and the perfectionism for even one more day puts me in a rut the size of the Great Wall of China.
I can't stand the girls. They're so set in their ways. We have to sit in the same places, eat in the same places, cook at the same work bench in Food Tech, take study periods in the same layout. We have to treat our teachers a certain way (usually badly) and because I have my own rules, my own priorities I become the bitch. I am The Scapegoat.
I'm too old to 'get' them, too young to be any other adult. I'm the one who ends up losing every battle because I am not the same. They think I don't care what they say or believe about me but I do. I hate being 'special' or 'different' or a 'freak'. I want to be Amy, head down and unnoticed. Better yet, Terreur with her head down and UNKNOWN.
"One more week" I tell myself. "One more week then two off. You won't have to see any one. You won't have to talk to anyone. You can hide and cry to your heart's content. One more week."
Sooner, if I really want to lose.
The tiredness is worst. I can get up at 7.30 after going to bed past midnight no problems but that isn't how I'm tired. I've found that I'm tired as I work. Take today for instance. I was concentrating on my History SAC, focusing so hard on the right answer that I had moments where I felt the need to faint. I was honestly surprised when I reached the end of the SAC and was still conscious. I also feel more of the 'over it' kind of tired rather than the 'sleepy' kind. The thought of putting up with the bitchiness and the perfectionism for even one more day puts me in a rut the size of the Great Wall of China.
I can't stand the girls. They're so set in their ways. We have to sit in the same places, eat in the same places, cook at the same work bench in Food Tech, take study periods in the same layout. We have to treat our teachers a certain way (usually badly) and because I have my own rules, my own priorities I become the bitch. I am The Scapegoat.
I'm too old to 'get' them, too young to be any other adult. I'm the one who ends up losing every battle because I am not the same. They think I don't care what they say or believe about me but I do. I hate being 'special' or 'different' or a 'freak'. I want to be Amy, head down and unnoticed. Better yet, Terreur with her head down and UNKNOWN.
"One more week" I tell myself. "One more week then two off. You won't have to see any one. You won't have to talk to anyone. You can hide and cry to your heart's content. One more week."
Sooner, if I really want to lose.
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