It’s been a bit since I wrote to you, and there’s a lot to catch up on. The crazies just keep piling up on each other, and I’m still not sure if I attract the weirdness or cause it.
But there’s also some stuff I’d rather not tell you. The classes are great, and I still love ’em all. The kids I’m meeting are friendly and enthusiastic and even messier than Putt-Putt and Bubs combined. But I’m learning a lot more than just the stuff I catch between sniffles and snores in class. And most of it’s stuff about myself.
Take tonight, for example. Tonight we conspired up a car of floor-mates to go swing dancing. Four other girls who were excited and gorgeous and only one sucked her breath when I floored it at a yellow light. (Sometimes I think I could totally make it as an Uber driver, and sometimes I think my passengers would sue the minute they were able to sit upright again. )
We got there and it’d been cancelled for that night. Then was the classic what-do-you-want-to-do-i-don’t-know-what-do-you-want-to-do-let’s-do-something-crazy-yes-um-what-big-silence moment. So eventually Google found us another dance spot that didn’t cost and wasn’t a nightclub (SLG’ing like a boss), and we headed there. Detoured off Navy Pier, said “Christian-version-of-a-swear-word No!” to $25 parking, decided we were too tired to go dancing, and finally ended up back at school. Three of them walked out for fro-yo, and I pled off for old-lady reasons (homework, sleep, food, budget) and ran the stairs to my room.
Which was what I had wanted to do the minute the nice janitor had told us that no, he was sorry, but there wasn’t any event there that night.
When we were having that awkward stop and stare moment outside the hall, trying to figure out what to do, I just wanted pajamas and peppermint tea and Netflix. I wanted my car and miles of I-80 and a playlist that never ended. I wanted my sister and a puzzle and inappropriate pants. I wanted only one person other than myself. I didn’t want the people I had and their energy and conversation and all of it. You’ve probably know this for years, but I guess I’m massively selfish when it comes to spending time with others. I’m picky and irrational and tire out for reasons other than insomnia, and I use a lot of excuses to get my own sort of time.
Sigh. I’m working on it. Don’t tell me “I told you so,” but yeah, you probably did.
We’re going to try to go dancing again next week. They were all chill about not going tonight, they didn’t hate my driving, they no-hip-danced to my music in the car, and they thanked me. I swear I’m surrounded by the nicest human beings known to man, and just the sort of people they are reminds me not to be selfish.
I’ll add it to my list, right between “Read Chapter 8” and “Do Laundry.”
Maybe missing you, even if you say “I told you so,”