it was in the back of a taxi

i was very pensive while washing blenders today for the following reasons: 

one: am i or am i not going to be fired? 

two: i haven't shed a tear in six months. 

three: i wondered if the screaming child whose distracted mother ordered her a 24oz banana berry would ever stop. and why she even started in the first place. 

four: where i would be in exactly a year from now. 

five: where i would be in exactly ten years from now. 

six: how concerned i was about voicing it even though its been there for so long. 

seven: if it would change it.

eight: how i got a lump in my throat when i had to remake a smoothie. 

nine: how happy i am to see kitten happy. 

ten: how badly i want to go to college. 

eleven: the pain in my dad eyes following this weeks events. 

twelve: how badly i want school to start.

and finally

thirteen: the drumroll freaks me out. 

the square root of real= fake

here's my beef with math once and for all: 

if people would except it as an art form math and i would be best friends. hands down. no questions asked. 

but alas. it is supposedly the most logical and real thing in the world. numbers and calculations surround who we are and who we're meant to be. [apparently] 

a calculated indefinite possibility.

isn't that a bit messed up?

the funniest part of it all is the way we are suppose to learn it, the answer is not suppose to be the solution. its the process. 

so this whole absolute solution doesn't even apply. 

and does it ever? 

I keep thinking back to when i asked when this "real world" that everyone seems to talk about begins or ends. 

shall i draw up an equation?

five measures

on the tip of my tongue. 

and there is shall stay. 

oooooh how its much better that way. 

I feel like the only really sane one again. [yay!] 

I'll admit that i am in fact looking forward to school. and not because ... "the sooner it starts, the sooner it will end"

 

its now become.....

"the sooner is starts, the sooner it begins." 

ain't the way you found me

you know what's my favorite part? 

how when I am this happy I am THIS happy. 

 and I only worry for the fraction of a second. 

unpickle.

   It fits. 

   

  silly girl. 

  best kid of silly. 

does not want a free boost.

the world's corporations are making me hurl. 

more specifically, the one I work for. the mindless waste of my time becomes more apparent each day I clock in. but i do it. because come on, in this economic climate what else do I do?

alas, that certain corporation I happen to work for somehow believes they are the big time. like a four hour shift could change the world. and missing that four hour shift is the end of the world. 

i messed up and i get that, my vision somehow missed the one o'clock shift i was suppose to work. 

earth shattering. 

life changing. 

shift. 

yeah right. 

and I get more than anyone that not everything in life has to be the most important moment. i get that an insignificant first job years down the road won't matter. 

but for now, it just makes me mad. 

I know I'll never work for some corporation in the future. If I'm lucky, once I quit this job [in two weeks] this will be the last corporation I ever work for. 

maybe not. 

but if I'm lucky....

nothing good happens after two am.

mainly me not being able to breath. which got me thinking, my asthma is probably psychological.

it had been a strange day, and i was feeling bad about certain things.

pity asthma?

maybe.

i feel like i made the wrong choice.

and maybe my body agrees.

my lungs do anyway.