Filed under: college, Dreams, Events, My Day, My Explanations, Random Thoughts, Ranting, Writing | Tags: argue, arguments, asks, bile, care, child, choke, conflict, control, controversy, cruel, didn't, dirty look, disagreement, dollars, droid eris, effort, eyes, flipped, growing up, hard, heartless, ingrate, lessons, life, love, money, mother, mouth, mr. j, myself, naturally, new, pay, phone, possess, push, real life, really, receive, samsung alias, she, shouting, sick, strong, strong enough, stupid, suppose, teenager, thirty, thought, thoughts, trample, try, understand, ungrateful, universe, veiled, verizon, vile, voice, vomit, wish, work, world, yeah, you know
How to Control Myself so I Don’t Respond to Infuriating Situations Like a Complete Teenager
A Guide to Stupid Thoughts, by Kim
Mr. J’s disagreement lessons don’t really come into consideration when it’s an argument in Real Life. Obviously.
It’s hard enough to keep the bile from my throat, let alone really ponder the reasoning behind the raucous shouting.
Strangely enough, my head is clearing as the headache gathers. The sour ache at my temples and in my chest congeals as rational thought stomps through and fury pumps as if from a bellows through my veins.
Really, I’m ungrateful? I suppose I am. Sincerely and honestly, I take for granted everything I possess and the love I receive. I wouldn’t be me if I didn’t trample over the world as if I owned it.
And so she asks, “What do you take the world for? What do you take me for?”
I take the world for a heartless and cruel universe in which life could end at the drop of a hat. I take her for an angry woman whose temper makes me want to vomit. I still might.
But what is life if I don’t live it like it’s mine? I take my existence for a precious thing, and shit, I wouldn’t work so hard all the time if it meant nothing to me. It means so much that I can’t help but try to live.
So, you know. Naturally I didn’t argue back. I did ask, politely, I thought, if she would like me to. If she’d agreed I might have obliged, I don’t know. I’m not some child she can push around anymore.
Not that she was ever physically violent. But if there are any speculations about my own temper, and why I never really lose it, that’s why. I know it’s kin to hers, and it’s oh so very ugly.
I’m sorry for being ungrateful. I’m sorry for asking for more than she was willing to pay. It’s about a new phone, by the way. Mine won’t charge. At two years old (never having been replaced) I’m genuinely surprised it’s still alive. The Droid Eris seemed perfect, and we almost upgraded, until the “Internet and Data Use” option appeared. Thirty extra dollars (per month… expensive, I understand), and there goes the lid. Flipped.
Oops. I realize I don’t get annuity, thanks. Why didn’t you just say you were broke? I wasn’t aware that I was sharing such a dirty look, sorry. And hell, I’ll keep my eyes down and veiled now and refuse to open my mouth, I suppose.
I did tell her that I wouldn’t work so hard and give so much if I didn’t want to match all that she gives me. It’s so stupid, and I guess I’m not strong enough, because yeah. My voice was thick and pathetic with emotion and I wished I didn’t care so much. I hate conflict. It makes me sick.
Filed under: My Day | Tags: alone, bitter, black, bob marley, camry, cd, changing, clutter, coffee, competent, cozy, day, daydreaming, driver's license, dunkirk, empty, fair, family, friday, friends, happiness, happy, home, honest, house, license, mark and karen, melodies, moments, nerves, nervous, niches, overwhelming, passions, points, proper, red, respective, road test, steaming liquid, sweatpants, sweet, ten, the avett brothers, thirty, three, thrill, time, tired, today, truthful, warm, weary, worn-in
Finally home: and I guess I didn’t realize it before, but this has to be one of the best feelings in the world. Coming into a house that’s empty of people but filled with coziness and clutter; changing into my most worn-in pair of sweatpants and a thermal; putting up my hair and my feet and blasting the music with a warm cup of black coffee before me. The steaming liquid might be bitter to the taste, but to my weary self it’s oh so sweet.
I’ve checked in with all of my immediate family members: they’re all in their respective, proper niches for this time of day. I’m all alone here, just soaking in the melodies flowing past my ears.
I’m so tired.
I passed my road test today: I officially have my driver’s license. For all of my daydreaming, playing my celebratory Avetts’ CD on the way home and driving around didn’t feel as joyful as I’d expected. The instructor I rode with was extremely competent and not altogether unpleasant. He was a middle-aged, moustached man who was polite and understanding of my overwhelming nerves. I only got ten points on my test: thirty points will fail you. The happiness has only struck at me for a few moments so far. I don’t care if it trickles in slowly or swamps me in a tsunami. I just want to stop being down.
There’s homework, and practicing, and illness. Obligations to my passions, family, friends, and school. I’m exhausted. As Mr. Bett so intriguingly phrased it, I’m running around “like a chicken with it’s head and butt cut off.”
I love to be busy, and when the pressure’s on I normally excel. Failing my road test yesterday was a bitch for me. I’m going to be completely honest: I struggled with humility and hopefulness all day on Thursday and all of that focus on my “feelings” came back to bite me in the ass: I concentrated more on what the instructor thought of me than I did on my driving. Thus, failure.
Luckily I was able to reschedule, and miraculously in Dunkirk there was an opening for today at three. Rush hour Friday traffic ended up being the last concern on my list as I parallel parked, three point turned, and manipulated Mark and Karen’s little red Camry with intensity. I was so damn nervous. The man in the car with me even asked me, as he had me pull over to begin my three point, “I know something’s got to be making you nervous– your heart nearly stopped when I had you pull out back there instead of parking [for my parallel park].”
He was observant, and honest, and kind. He wasn’t a dick. I told him quite truthfully that I had flunked yesterday, and then hurriedly protested that he please shouldn’t count that against me. He told me that he only judged driving based on what he saw, and that I could pass the test today and fail it tomorrow, and that didn’t mean I was a bad driver. He told me that I was doing fine so far, and that although it wasn’t over yet, I was doing just right.
I told him with all sincerity that he was my favorite.
I did pass today, thank God. I am waiting for the thrill to completely set in, but for now I am entirely satisfied listening to Bob Marley serenade me with reggae and sipping my now-lukewarm coffee.
Kick Drum Heart 