I left my night class stressed to the max with a pounding headache, annoyed my mom kept calling me, angry at one of my classmates and incredibly disturbed by the work of another. I wanted to die, basically. On my way home, walking by the planetarium, an old man sitting on the bricks asked me when the next Robertson bus was coming. I had no idea, I couldn't even make a good guess for the guy, so I apologized and kept walking. A few minutes later, I passed a booth where a parking attendant lady sits and decided I would go up and ask, see if she knew. She did. So I walked back down to the old man sitting on the bricks and told him.
My head still hurts. My suitcase is still unpacked. I still am angry at one of my classmates and incredibly disturbed by the work of another. But that old man sitting on the bricks got home, or wherever he was going, okay. So. That's all for me.
