Hi Nerds! It appears that my cat will not receive my blankets, nor shall my sister become sole possessor of my fuzzy pants this week because chicken on bread did not kill me. As disappointing as this news must be for my poor furry companion, navigating the lunch scene and not dying has been a pretty cool thing to me. So, without further I give you the rundown of something that I hope one day will not be such of a big deal! Its twelve twenty. A chime that sounds annoyingly like the doorbell at my house goes off overhead. "Stupid door-bell bell" I think to myself. There is about a gazillion things I could do with the next half hour. Could, I could leave. Picking up my mountain of stuff is like trying to move the Andes to Hawaii but somehow, against all odds, everything (sort of) fits in my backpack and then I'm out the door. Twelve Twenty-Six. Slinking back to my locker, I'm lost in a very rivetting conversation with myself about the best method to slink more efficiently when I see a familiar black bob of hair pocking through the crowd. Said black bob of hair is connected to a hand, a hand which at the moment is waving at me. ALERT! This is not a drill, I repeat THIS IS NOT A DRILL!!! Oh dear creator of all things good, why? Maybe if I stand still, she won't notice me. "Ostrich it out," I ration. Nope, too late. She calls me accross the quad. "Hey girl!" I hunch a little lower, defeated, because I know what she is going to say next. "Lunch with me," says the mouth connected to the black mop of luscious locks. There is no escape now. Her brown eyes lock target on mine and the people pleaser in my head overrides all system protocol. "Yeah man!" I holler back. Brain sucesfully rebooted. I check my watch. Twelve thirty-two. Unfortunately, my pouting-about-life time is going to have to wait today. Moment of truth, time to lunch The table tried to be a circle. It really did. But its not; its an oval. For whatever reason, this bothers me greatly. Who doesn't like a good circle? And so it starts. A whole bunch of other girls flock over to our roundly-challenged table. Then we talk and eat and it feels perfectly normal. Twelve Fifty. Door-bell bell rings again and its time for this fifteen-ish minute lunch party to disperse and go to class. From this experience, I learned that lunch is just another part of the day that I love to over think. I can't wait until this becomes boring. Though I only sat in once this week to do my time, I hope to start switching out solitude time with some hard core lunching. Humans eat food, and that's ok. Until next post, -Soliuna
3 Comments
first
2/5/2016 09:05:10 pm
Nice humor and such a sensitive topic for many. I enjoyed reading it.
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Leslie
2/6/2016 06:41:52 am
So glad you are choosing recovery daily. Remember your successes and don't let any slips bring you down.
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sally
2/7/2016 07:46:05 am
YOU DID IT!!!
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Nerds in the NeighborhoodSoliuna
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