This afternoon I was practicing my amatuer hour song, and I couldn't go as low as I needed to. It irritated me that my voice wasn't cooperating. Elise and I were in the piano room and band got done early. I just had to make it through my song one last time perfectly, but of course, that wasn't possible. Every band member in human history had to bang on the door and walk through the room into the gym onto the stage because taking 10 extra step around the piano room was too difficult. We eventually gave up and went to Choraliers. When we finished I walked to dinner. A few of my friends were walking out of the cafe and gave me a smoothie they'd made me! I was thrilled and about to take it back into the dorm but they said there was really good ravioli I should get since they never serve anything other than the dreaded haystacks. I walked into line sipping my smoothy, looked into the red bowl of sauce and found just that. Sauce. That's all. No ravioli. There was absolutely no more dinner being served, nothing was there. I checked in the back to see if they had more. Nothing. Then I started chewing on my smoothie... I knew something was up. There was tons of little pieces of plastic in my smoothie! Sick! So I gave up trying to pick it out of the tiny slurps I slurped up and threw the full cup away. Even now I'm still picking pieces out of my teeth. I gave up on trying to find anything to eat and walked back to my car parked outside of the dorm to get my pillow from the back seat I had forgotten to grab earlier. I went to a friends room and told them I had to take my car up to park it, they had to also, so we decided we'd go together so we wouldn't have to walk back alone in the dark. I ran upstairs to my room to put away my pillow and when I got back they had drove off in their car already. So I got in my car and drove by myself. They had said they were going to go to the field so I walked up to the field.
The hill going up was muddy from the rain all day. I could feel my favorite floral shoes getting covered in mud. Just as I barely reached the top I tripped and sank into the soft, gooey, dirt. My fabric made shoes were soaked to the brim in mud, my jeans were muddy, and I hoped no one had saw. I got up and walked up to the field. My friends were no where to be found. Finally I decided to take the road back instead of going down the muddy hill again. I was so done with life. Little things like this that keep making my day worse and worse really push me over the edge. Winter, the depressed season of my life has hit. I walked back completely dissapointed in the day. I walked past my friends room, angry and upset over all these little things in my day. Seriously? People couldn't just walk 10 extra feet AROUND my room? Seriously? You can't keep food out for a bit longer for all those people who pay just as much as everyone else but have 1 longer class? Seriously? You left the plastic lid in the smoothie maker? Seriously? You just left without me and then didn't show up to where you said you'd be? Seriously mud? You had to claim me? As I walked back up to my room I thought about my Africa trip. This might sound awful, but it gave me comfort knowing my life really isn't as bad as I make it seem. Those poor African kids I'm going to go see in the Spring. I might never eat dinner because there's not food left over but at least I can eat lunch everyday! I might have ruined muddy shoes, but at least I have something on my feet. I got back to my room and fell on my last resort. Chocolate. And not just any chocolate, Chocolate Apothecary chocolate. Chocolate always makes things better. It's actually proven it gives you endorphins that make you happy. Pigged out on that for a while and then felt guilty because that was my dinner and none of it consisted of fruit or vegetables. To top it all off I tried to get on the internet to write all this out and get it off my chest but of course the stupid internet took 20 years to load. I'm not kidding, it took 20 minutes to get to this page. That's a lifetime!
Someone told me yesterday that all my blogs are negative and reading them makes them depressed. Well, to that I say, yes, a lot of them are negative, I'm not going to lie, but when I'm feeling like this, I'm compelled to write about it. It makes it go away a little bit. It helps me out. Maybe it makes you depressed, so don't read it. Anger, sadness, distress are all such strong emotions, you have to get rid of them somehow.