So a child just threw a chair at me. A rolly desk chair. Uh, excuse me? You realize you’re in privileged Westchester County at a Catholic high school with a zero tolerance policy? I was telling you to get back to class, not mugging you. No reason to throw rolling furniture. Welp, I hope you enjoyed your 2 weeks of Catholic education, because I’m having you expelled for dangerous conduct. Bye.
I'm going to go on a girl rant here. Sorry in advance.
It’s hard enough for me being home- the most boring/lonely place on the planet- but to have metaphorical bombs dropped on me is just making it worse.
My boyfriend (this is where it’s going to get girly. WOMP WOMP) works for the PC which is great. But there’s a chance that he’s losing his job within the next few weeks due to cutbacks. Should that happen, he’s moving back with his family… in Texas. I know that I shouldn’t be all mopey since it hasn’t happened yet and he can potentially find another job in DC and blah blah blah, but I’ve got a job and HOPE at home right now so I can’t just run back to DC with him. I want to spend as much time as possible with him if he’s going to be leaving. But no, instead I’m dancing around to all for the best and working with a collection of delinquents. I feel like Jasmine in Aladdin when she’s trapped in that hourglass and the sands of time are drowning her.
And the biggest issue is, if I’m going to be completely honest with myself, I can practically feel my heart breaking into a million little pieces and it’s tearing me apart.