I tried to make coffee this morning, like I always do, and the machine broke. Brown liquid spilled all over the counter. So on top of having no coffee, I also had a mess to clean up, and also no time because I slept in too late, because I stayed up late last night studying. And of course it didn’t stop there, because of the fuckin’ domino effect. Because I didn’t have coffee, I drove to school with a huge headache and extreme grogginess, which meant that I was not as alert as I should have been, and I rear-ended someone. I mean, it could have been worse – no one was hurt – but now I bet I’ll have to go to traffic school, and I don’t have the time or money for that. Since I got in that accident, I was late to class, and of course I had a presentation in that class, and I was due to go first. So I walk up to the front of my class, professor looking at me with tired eyes, and I feel rushed and exhausted but prepared, because I did my research. But then when I plugged my flash drive into the computer, I couldn’t find my PowerPoint anywhere. Somehow, I deleted it, or forgot to put it on there in the first place. At that point, I started freaking out (though I kept it inside my mind). I apologized to the professor about ten times, and offered to do it by memory, but he said I could do it another day, which is helpful, but I’m pretty sure he rolled his eyes at me. And maybe if it was a different professor, it wouldn’t matter, but this class is a business class which means it’s 80% men, and this professor wants it to be 100% men, because he doesn’t think women are competent. He hasn’t said it outright, but he always cuts female students off when they’re talking, and is less likely to let them answer questions to begin with. All of this made me question why I decided to take a business class in the first place, but too late, because the semester’s halfway over and I need an A so I can maintain my scholarship.
And then David texted me. To break up with me. He texted me! Can you believe that? The fuckin’ nerve. But maybe it’s for the best, because I think I might be a little bit gay (isn’t everyone a little gay?) or maybe it’s just that women seem like a better option now that I’m realizing how awful David was (and all my past boyfriends were). But I can’t be gay, because my mom would lose her shit, and I’ve already pissed her off enough lately. Maybe I should just be celibate. No possibility of pregnancy (last month my period was late and I nearly had a breakdown), no STDs, no messy emotions, just me chilling in my own bed without anyone to steal the blankets from me. But also, I would hate to die without ever having sex with a woman. Don’t knock it ‘til you try it, my dad likes to say. Not about sex with women, just in general. Although that’s definitely not a good motto for every scenario – like, heroin. I don’t need to try that. Or gambling. Dad should never have tried that. But I should give women a try. Just to be fair. Enough is wrong with my life as it is that I might as well do something different.
