Things that happened to me before 9:00 a.m.

I just really needed to share how my day has started

2.       6:15 a.m. Forgot to set my alarm but I woke up anyway because my brain hates me

3.       6:45 a.m. Went downstairs to make myself lunch but stopped in the living room to look for my shoes.  I turned on the light and was shocked to find my brother sleeping on the couch.  Now this wouldn’t be so weird if the TV was still on so that I knew he had just fallen asleep watching something, but the TV was off and he was in his pajamas.  He then woke up and looked completely disoriented, more so than one usually does when waking in the morning.  He seemed to have no idea where he was and he then told me that he had taken his contacts out and definitely had fallen asleep in his room in his bed.  So he was sleep walking, which people do, but Nathaniel has never done that in his life.  I went upstairs to tell my mother because I thought this was hysterical, meanwhile I hear Nathaniel moving around downstairs.

4.       7:00 a.m. I go back downstairs to the kitchen where I see that the freezer is open, so I call to Nathaniel in the dining room (where he is on his computer) to tell him he forgot to close the freezer.  Upon further inspection I see that there is water everywhere and now realize that sometime between Nathaniel leaving his room and falling asleep on the couch he had managed to open the freezer and then pass out, leaving it open.

5.       7:00 a.m.  He tells me not to tell mom while he closes the door and then runs upstairs.  Yeah, like she’s not going to notice everything is melted when she opens the freezer to get a bagel.  My brother the genius.

6.       7:07 a.m. We realize that he obviously didn’t do it on purpose, because he was asleep, but know that my Dad will not understand that, so I attempt to start cleaning things up.

7.       7:15 a.m. I realize I am going to miss the train so I drive to Wonderland to take the blue line in.

8.       7:50 – 8:30 a.m. Everything is normal on the train

9.       8:32 a.m. Transfer to the Red Line to get to Harvard Square.  For some reason it is way more crowded than usual and I am stuck where I cannot reach anything to hold onto.  This is very bad I realize and I can’t move my legs so there’s no way I can possibly balance myself.  First minute is ok but then I am completely unstable and grab the nearest thing next to me.  This happens to be an older man and I say I’m sorry and as soon as I am stable I let go.  Only to grab hold of him again two seconds later.  It is at this point that I will definitely take someone out if I let go of him, so I do not.  He says “no problem” but he says it all proper in what I realize is a French accent.  Of course I’m clinging to an older French gentlemen, of course I am.  This is made more embarrassing by the fact that I still have five more stops to go, so thankfully enough people leave so I can grab the bar and not him, except for he does not get off the T until Harvard with me, and then he walks off with his little French wife.  

10.   9:00 a.m Should be at work by now but I stop at panera because I didn’t get to pack my lunch of eat breakfast because I was cleaning up my stupid brothers mess.

And that was my morning, just thought you should know.

Edit: Upon further investigation, turns out Nathaniel was just blackout again.  Fucking douchebag.

I'm just complaining today

Can I just take a second to talk about my day?  This isn’t going to be some personal essay or some criticism about WAC I just want to write about the fact that I have to be alive right now.  And it’s only 9:49.

One.  I woke up at 6:20 today, thirty minutes before my alarm was due to go off and then could not fall back to sleep.  Fucking sucked.  Then when I was getting ready I realized that my neck really fucking hurts.  Like, I cannot move it left or right or really look down or up at all.  So I guess I’m just stuck looking straight ahead and tackling this day “head on” as those stupid optimist like to say.  God, I really hate them.

Two.  I went to the Red Lion Smoke shop to buy a ten ticket train pass only to find out that only take cash.  Well I’m fucking sorry, I don’t carry $135 on me just for shits an giggles unless I’m making a liquor run in C-Town and I’m buying for all those stupid freshman who aren’t 21 yet.  (They’re not stupid because they’re not 21, they can’t help that, they’re stupid because they’re fucking freshman).

Three.  Train was then 35 fucking minutes late.  And I couldn’t walk back to my house and drive my car to the T station because my Dad decided to actually go to his office today which he never does, and my stupid twin brother just happened to get himself a job two days a week assistant coaching the JV team at his old high school.  And of course everyone who is always cranky on the train was of course ten times angrier today because of the substantial delays.

Four.  Tried reading on the train but since I’m jammed in an aisle and the asshole in front of me had to LEAN ON THE ENTIRE BAR I have no balance and can’t read, but then, I can’t bend my head down so I couldn’t even if I wanted to.

Five.  I’m already late, so really, what’s the point in rushing.  Went to get on the T but wasn’t enough room, so I just waited for the next one.  Only one door on that car would open and everyone and there Mom has to be on THAT ONE.  Ok, but there’s only one door so you have to get in a line.  But everyone is like. “NO I’D RATHER DIE THAN BE ORDERLY.”

Six.  I think the homeless people in Harvard Square are starting to recognize me which is awkward because now they seem to think we have some connection so that don’t mind saying “Hey” to me in the morning which is super awkward.

Seven.  Broke a piece on the water dispenser at work, walked away quickly, no one seems to have noticed.

Commuting. Makes me want to die. Or kill people, it's hard to say.

Nothing makes me feel more like a lemming that trying to get on the train in the morning.  Those are those little animals that jump off cliffs in bunches right?  Because attempting to get onto a train with these people actually makes me want to jump off into an icy abyss.  Is it just me or is everyone that takes the train in the morning a cranky asshole?  Honestly, there is not a nice looking face on there.  I’m not saying I’m the exception, god knows I’m a cranky assface until the hours between 5 p.m. – 2 a.m..  (I understand that’s very late in the day and not very many hours, but shit, it’s my life I do what I want (not really)).  But really, no one on the train is a happy person, you’d think they’d prefer to just drive themselves to work so they wouldn’t have to sit next to anyone, because that’s the biggest issue.

Look, there are a lot of people who take the train in the morning, and there are usually enough seats if you utilize the middle or “bitch” seat.  I understand no one likes it, but sometimes it has to be done.  I don’t want to stand on a train for thirty minutes at 7:25 a.m.  I just don’t, so move your fucking bag you ignorant jackass.  And stop looking pissed off when I ask to sit there, I’m not telling you to move over and take it, I’m going to, so you only have to touch one person while I have to touch two.

And another thing, guys are the fucking worst on the train.  It doesn’t matter if they’re in jeans or a professional business suits, they always sit with their legs as wide as possible.  Listen dude, you can’t fucking do that right now.  There are three people sitting on this stupid bench seat, your balls can hold off on their space for thirty minutes.  You won’t die.  

Now for the T, or the metro, subway, for people who do not live on the North Shore.  Though it’s crowded and decidedly more touching that on the train, I like it better.  Because people understand that there is going to be touch, lots of it.  Not in a weird gross way…hopefully.  Except there’s always that gross as fuck PDA couple who thinks they need to kiss and touch each other’s asses the whole time.  It sucks.  They are gross.  Not much more can be done but to stick your face further into your book and pretend to be somewhere else.

There is one game I like to play on the T that helps me pass the time on my hour and a half commute: spot the gay girls.  Then: spot how many of them will never date you.  The numbers are always the same…weird.

Why does the Elm still exist?

So here’s my problem with the Elm:  It sucks the life out of me.  I almost always dreaded when Friday would come and I would feel forced to grab a copy in the library after my 8:30-9:25 nap (on the first floor behind to stacks) before running off the Smith for my 9:30.  (Yes I needed a fucking nap at 8:30).  How could you not grab from a giant stack of papers, and there was always the lingering hope that maybe, something interesting would be in there.  And yet time and again I was let down.  Junior year the only thing I looked forward to was the “Hipster Robin” comics, but by senior year the artist in question had flown the coop and left the paper vacant once more.

Let’s be honest, the paper was dull.  There are only so many articles you can write about stinkbug infestations.  Look, I know there’s a fucking problem, the bastards are all over my room and why yes, they do in fact “stink.”  Also, why do you keep writing about fashion, as if the majority of the student population doesn’t walk around in sweatpants before 2 O’clock, because they fucking do.  I can’t tell you the number of times that I only picked up the paper to make sure that the FilmSeries ad that I had sent in was there.  And I only did that because it was part of my job.  Otherwise I probably wouldn’t have bothered. 

Why am I talking about the Elm now that I’ve graduated?  Well one, I was too lazy to talk about it when I was attending school, and two, because I’m sitting in my cubical with nothing to do and I still have four hours until five, so I looked it up on the WAC website which only served to remind me of how much I hated it.

The only time the Elm was actually fun was when the LAX bros in my Sophomore year (perhaps Junior) got into trouble for hazing.  And that was only fun because some lithouser kept writing in and bashing everyone calling for more severe punishment and then some LAX bros wrote back.  As you can see the arguments weren’t that great because while I remember they happened, no actually conclusion was reached, the LAX bros got off easy and the lithousers were still unpopular and weird, and giant trolls. 

Now, I’m sure some are thinking, if you had such a problem with the paper why we’re you part of the solution?  Actually I’m sure none of you were thinking that, but I’m going to address this hypothetical question anyway.  Well for starters I’m lazy as fuck and the only thing that I write for deadlines are papers.  Also, I’m a huge fan of swearing, and anyone who thinks it makes me sound uneducated can go fuck themselves.  Another problem is that I make fun of people a lot and I don’t care, this would probably be frowned upon if I wrote an article talking about the stupid things that LAX bros do at bars, or listing the reasons why girls are always crying at frat parties.  Being scathingly mean is something that I’m sure the Elm would try to stay away from.  My career as a “journalist” for the Elm would have been short lived, as I’m sure people would write letter to the editor complaining that what I was writing was untrue.  But really they’re just getting defensive because it is true and I’m just exposing them in a more public forum than what everyone is saying behind their backs.

There was such a time in my Junior year when such an article did exist.  It was written by an eccentric girl who liked to party and meet people and do ridiculous things that could really only happen to her and be true.  She shall remain nameless, as she still attends the WAC institution, and does not know that I still fondly remember her weekly writings of shenanigans she had gotten into that week.  Sadly, she was driven away from the Elm, (as I noted I would have been) for writing honestly, and about the dumbasses that couldn’t take a joke.  My Senior year the Elm was void of her humor, and I was over their bland repetitive paper.