Monday, 28 February 2011

• It's All Good

  
  I just made it back home for the day after English class and a few errands I had to run, and now, am sitting comfortably in my pj's and robe for what will be a day of rest, and more studying.  English class was good, revealing some nice surprises I honestly never imagined would happen.  First of all, the gorgeous girl who makes me so nervous I can barely breathe sat beside me again, only for a few minutes because the professor paired us up for our workshop, but still.  I spoke to her briefly, asking how she done on her last essay after the teacher handed her's back.  She had received an A-, which I told her was pretty damn good.  She's such a quiet girl, probably much more than me...and that's saying a lot.  As far as I know, she has a boyfriend, though.  Sucks for me, but well, I'd have never managed to capture her interest anyway.  She's the kind of gorgeous that is simply too stunning for average, obviously worn me.  Oh well.  I fucking love catching every glimpse of her that I can when she isn't paying attention.  :)  She really is so beautiful.

  The other surprise came after the professor gave me my graded essay packet back.  For every area of my writing that was taken into consideration in the grading process, I received a mark of Excellent 150 points out of the possible 150.  At the bottom of the grade sheet, Mr. Moon had this to say, "A terrific job. One of the best personal narratives I've ever received."  I knew it was fairly well written, but I really didn't expect that kind of response.  During the editing process, I was actually very annoyed and sure my efforts to revise the draft had nearly ruined it.  I turned it in knowing it was an A, but deciding it was nothing special in the least...just an essay that was mechanically correct, so reading his comment was a nice contradiction of my beliefs.  I can't help but think, however, that in all the years that man has been teaching English at the college, he must have had to endure a crap load of shit writers.  I mean, he's only been a professor for the school for, well, forever.  How could my essay be one of the best he's received?  I don't fully understand how that's possible, but hey, I'll accept his compliments with a big hell yeah and an added dose of confidence to use on future assignments.  I'm not trying to boast at all, but I've been out of school for a few years and have made my way through absolute hell, so...I'm going to believe I deserve it and take it with a smile.  If I allow myself to start thinking I don't deserve the positive things happening in my life, I will only fall beneath the bottom and fail miserably in my efforts.  That isn't an option.

  I went to Hardees after class for lunch, one of the three restaurants my little town has to offer.  I needed to kill some time until the office lady returned from her lunch break so I could turn in some forms, so a sammich and curly fries seemed my best alternative to waiting for her in the lounge and enduring boredom.  I sat in the Lady Eagles (our HS girl's basketball team) room in the back of the place, looking through my papers and munching on my hot ham and cheese sandwich when the most gross icky thing occurred.  I had nearly finished my hot ham and cheese when I noticed a big fucking hair coming out from between the two buns, just fucking hanging there.  I knew it wasn't mine.  The damn thing was stuck to the goddamn food!  Needless to say, that brought my lunch break to an immediate end.  I took it to the counter and showed a couple of the employees, and went back to the back room to gather my things together.  The cashier who had waited on me when I ordered came to me with the cost of the sandwich, so at least I got a refund.  She apologized repeatedly, and while I was majorly grossed the fuck out, I told her it was okay...that I understood those things do happen, if only once in a blue moon.  It was pretty sickening.  I hate hair anyway, so seeing that just done my head in.  It's a clean restaurant, honestly.  They received the highest rating during their inspection, so I'm certain it was one of those freak accidents that maybe can't even be helped.

  After leaving Hardees, I pulled directly into the parking lot of KRCC (Kentucky River Community Care), which is beside the fast food joint.  It's the mental health clinic I've gone to for years, ever since Dr. Belew packed up and ran off to Michigan for a climate more allergy friendly.  I had always hated that place, KRCC, but I started thinking maybe it would be nice to stop in and say hello to the receptionist and the psych nurse who I'd worked with for over a year.  I talked to the receptionist for a few minutes, showing her pictures of my baby nephew on my phone.  Then, Angie, the psych nurse, came out and I spoke to her.  "Hey, Angie.  I probably won't be back here anymore, but I wanted to stop in and say hello and let you know I'm doing fantastic."

  She smiled.  "Well give me a hug!"

  I hugged her and told her I was taking college classes again, off all the psych meds, and feeling amazing.  She seemed happy, but not at all shocked.  Never once did I sense any disbelief or surprise.  "I knew that would help you.  Well, if you ever just want to stop by and talk to me, you know where I am.  Stop by any time!"  She said cheerfully, and we both parted ways...her back to her office, and me off to the school again.

  So anyway, it's been a pretty decent day, in spite of the nasty, treacherous conditions outside from all the rain that keeps pouring down.  Tomorrow will be much busier, but the busier the better, probably.  I'm doing fantabulous in all my classes, though psychology is about to get more difficult.  That's really the only class I'm not fond of in the least.  The girl who was interested in psychology for years now dreads her psych class and is changing her major as a result. Screw psychology, man!  I am blessed beyond measure to have recovered from all my bullshit psych issues.  No way in hell do I want to waste X amount of years of my life on an education that will get me the kind of job I would undoubtedly end up hating very early on.  I simply cannot listen to people talk about their issues all day.  Someone else can, but certainly not me.  I don't belong in the field of psychology.  I belong elsewhere.

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