My Very Public Diary: December 2018

January 1, 2019

Let’s see how we end one of the trashiest years ever.

Dec. 3rd

I just had a very… interesting encounter, I guess one would say. I was walking to the cafeteria/dining hall/whatever you call it, and one of my campus’ go-carts started slowing down beside me, which for sure freaked me out. If you were a girl walking on a back road of a college campus before the sun started rising, wouldn’t you be kind of freaked out if a car started slowing down beside you? Anyway, the guy driving the go-cart touched his head then pointed at me then gave me a thumbs up. I realized he was trying to compliment my hair, so I awkwardly smiled and gave him a thumbs up in return. I don’t know if he got the message; I had to do it four times before he finally decided to drive away.

Dec. 6th

I just finished my speech class for the semester, and I definitely ended it on an awkward note. I was the last one to give my speech, which was already nerve-wracking. To increase my nerves, I had to go after someone’s hilarious speech persuading people to download Tinder. Then, before my speech, the two people I sat next two tried to hype me up, but it was just embarrassing and made me more nervous. I proceeded to give my speech, which was a persuasive speech about college students taking mental health days and taking time out for the betterment of their mental health. I thought it was a pretty great, relevant topic, but everyone’s face when I finished said “wth?” I got the pity clap and wanted to be swallowed by the ground. Even though I was the last one, the class wasn’t ending fast enough. You could feel the awkwardness in the air. It was so bad.

Dec. 7th

Honestly, if the ground swallowed me whole right now, I wouldn’t mind. Actually, I would really appreciate it. I just finished giving my last campus tour for the semester, and from the moment I stepped into the meeting area to the moment I left, it was so horribly awkward for me. I’m not going to go into too much detail. Let’s just say my mouth shouldn’t be allowed to produce words; I know something was said about me as I was leaving to give my tour, but I’m not sure what it was or what the responses were. Before we learned who we were giving a tour to, I almost had an intense emotional breakdown because of Avengers, especially the new trailer. As I was leaving the meeting place from giving my tour, I said goodbye to three other tour guides and our supervisor. There was no verbal response, and two of the other tour guides didn’t even really acknowledge me; I just kept verbally repeating “okay.” It was so weird and uncomfortable, and now I feel like people hate me. I don’t mind if they do, but it’s an unsettling feeling.

Dec. 7th

I honestly probably could make this an expansion of the previous paragraph, but I’m not because it’s a different intense feeling (although the feeling of being hated by everyone in the organization is still there). I hate having a crush. “Crush Culture” by Conan Gray and “Invisible” by Anna Clendening sum up how I feel about having a crush. It’s the absolute worse because it never works out, and what could’ve been a great friendship is destroyed. Something always happens that defines a relationship and ultimately becomes the dealbreaker and ruins what could’ve been great (and it’s not the fact that I am horrible at texting, don’t text first, and am just horribly awkward in the socializing department). Needless to say, I have a slight crush on someone, and even if I snap out of my crush on him, I hope nothing is ruined.

Dec. 12th

Not even an hour back in Nashville, and I’ve already made a fool of myself. I got back to Nashville today for winter break, let’s start there. I am wearing no form of jewelry. My lips are slightly chapped. My hair is in a giant afro that resembles my grandpa’s when he was my age (19). My hands are so crusty and ashy; they are literally turning the same color as Snow White but paler. There is an unknown stain on my jeans, and my nails look like a toddler painted them with her eyes closed. Long story short, I look rough. Anyway, when I got back to Nashville, I had to return one of my textbooks because it was an Amazon rental. The entire conversation I had with the UPS guy was extremely awkward, and having my grandfather by my side didn’t make it any better. The UPS guy was asking generic questions about my education and all that jazz; my responses and jokester of a grandpa are what made it awkward. Then, as we were leaving, the UPS guy complimented my hair (afro), and my grandfather proceeded to say, “She looks just like me” before hysterically laughing. I have never sped walked out of a store so fast; you will not catch me in a UPS in Nashville any time soon.

Dec. 20th

These past few days I’ve said and done (and not done) some things I’m not proud of and make me regret my existence, but that’s not what this is about. This about me making a fool of myself at the Sprint store. Recently, I’ve been having problems with my iPhone where my volume will be on, and only the unsaved numbers would go through and actually ring. For example, if my sister were to call, it would ring on her end and not my end, and I would only know if she called if she left a voicemail. Anyway, I went to the Sprint store to get this problem fixed, and when the relative I went with called my phone to prove my point, the call actually went through! With horrible rambling, I tried to explain that I wasn’t lying and legit had this issue. Stumbling over my words and taking pauses to gather my thoughts didn’t help, but they ended up believing me. Turns out I had an update I didn’t know about, and my location in regards to the cell tower affected the connection. Fortunately, there was no one else in the store. Unfortunately, I looked like a distraught hot mess and smelled heavily of sweat.

Dec. 25th

The day started off great, but as it progressed, all that went through my mind was, “This ain’t it chief.”

Dec. 27th

My anxiety is through the roof, and I can’t get out of my head, and I’m low key stressed. I know that was an incorrectly written sentence, but I don’t care. Everything that’s been said or done since Christmas Eve (including the few interactions and many times I hit my knee at work yesterday) keeps replaying in my head, and I want to disappear. The constant recurring image of everything makes me realize I am completely by myself. My college dorm is my home, and when I return to Nashville from college for breaks, there’s no one house I can specifically call home, which is very disheartening. When I’m in college, I miss out on so much back in Nashville, so I can hardly participate in any conversation, which is equally disheartening. Let’s not even mention the many times I embarrass myself. I just don’t know my place at the moment, and not knowing is super scary and makes me want to throw up.

Dec. 27th

Same day, different internal crisis with the addition of more tears. This honestly goes back to the previous paragraph and not knowing my place. Not knowing my place means limited support, and limited support means struggling to pay for school. Struggling to pay for school means trying to take out loans but not being able to because I don’t have a cosigner, which goes back to the limited support thing. Pretty much, I’m struggling to pay for school and might have to take a semester off of school because I can’t get approved for a simple $2,500 loan. I actually need $806 more, but I’m clearing my bank accounts and savings account to cover that. These kinds of problems are the exact reason why writing helps, and I often feel like I’m destined to be a hobo.

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