I’ve been studying Maths II for about 12 hours now. To the untrained in the excruciating abilities of national certificate curriculums, that’s the equivalent of having your soul sucked out by a dementor, without the kiss part.
And as usual, when I get to study for that long, my head finds it funny to press me with every embarrassing memory it could possibly find. They vary in intensity, usually proportional to the amount of concentration I may be trying to put in at the time. Around the time I hit integration it triggered the time when I managed to lock my friend out of his car, lock myself in, get my head stuck in a revolving door and get stopped by security twice, all in less than 5 hours. Time rates initiated a series of images for all the times my friends thought it was funny to take my shoes off and place them on high surfaces, being a door ledge, a shelf or maybe just holding it up in the air, only to have me jumping barefoot up and down trying to reach it, closely followed by the time my friend thought it was funny to pick my up and throw me in the air a couple of times, which made everyone curious as whether they’ll be able to manage it enough to wanna put the theory into experiment, that time when a huge Christmas tree fell on my curious 7-year-old self because I liked it so much I wanted to drag it back home with me, and of course the memory of how my fixation on my glow-in-the-dark sneakers was cured at the age of 12 when the lights went out in a department store and I guided a giggling crowd of seniors out to the street.
And before you know it, all the slips, headfirst crashes and awkward sentences I ever came up with were incoming. Images of when I sat on a spaghetti plate my friend placed on my chair for safekeeping, bounced ass first off a trampoline, drowned in a kid’s ball pit because apparently, the minimum height limits were put there for a reason, choked on an important meeting, was nervous around my crush that I hand shook his finger and not his whole hand, closely after bumping into his torso and falling flat on my back in sight of no less than 14 people, tried to catch an object and got it straight in the face were rushing in.
The cringing inevitably called for a study break, since maths seemed to have developed the ability to turn my psyche against me, and in that study break I found a cure. All you gotta do, is laugh at yourself, then it’s not that bad anymore.
You didn’t expect a magic pill, did you?
4 comments:
:) take a break.
Looks like we both need a break, yes.
My awkward moments include getting hit by a football right in the bottom in front of a benchfull of senior boys, stammering in front of a busfull of senior boys (and getting it rubbed in my face for two weeks), having my bikini top slip in the middle of the pool, being too embarassed as I waited for my mom in the car to tell some guys who were trying to get their car out to wait until she came, which resulted in a broken license plate and a red-faced "Yes, there was someone in the car" moment, having someone notice that I'd hit puberty by way of my armpit hair which I hadn't yet had time to buy products for, and making blunders in the mic because I wasn't prepared to speak in front of the whole school.
I'm kind of tempted to post this anonymously, but you put yours up so why can't I? These moments don't define me. (I have no idea where the philosophical mumbo-jumbo came from.)
If it makes you feel any better, I've had each and every one of the incidents you just mentioned happen to me too. Even more, my boob popped out in full sight of my dad, entire family, and french guy I'd been crushing on for the full length of our stay, who happened to be with his friends. He laughed, I wanted to get my boob castrated for not rising up to french par. You're good. :)
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