Exhausting.
That is the only word I can think of right now to describe my week. The first week of the semester usually contains me running into old college buddies from last semester, standing in the long line at the bookstore and driving an hour back home because traffic is horrendous. But, instead I sit here in the library's computer lab, wasting my life away because I wasn't able to register for a class I originally signed up for last spring. Due to certain circumstances, my classes were dropped and I was able to re-register for three out of four classes, thus the waiting to petition phase.
My last class ended at 11:40am. It is 5:05pm where I am waiting to petition for a sociology class at 6:30pm. Do I need this class? NO. Am I petitioning to fulfill my full-time status? YES. Unfortunately, the class I wanted to petition for was a communication class, which is my minor, or as of right now, my minor concentration.
With all this waiting, I doubt I'll be able to make it to happy hour with my cousins that I haven't seen for ages. I'm just too tired and cranky to do anything right now. I would rather be home, laying on my bed than sitting here.
Please understand that while some students view this as the annual "Oh, god school is starting again?" routine, I view this as the worse beginning of the semester, ever. Not only am I trying to petition classes that are way off from my original schedule, but a certain situation, or shall I say person, has surfaced.
As much as I want to indulge in the information, writing about it will just make me slightly angry yet naive and nostalgic. I have no patience for shit like that.
For the first time, in a long time, I am starting to feel like I'm 17 again. The young girl, who thought things might be going her way, who thought maybe this isn't so bad, who thought maybe I'll like feeling this way. But no. I don't feel that way. Instead of guarding my heart, I let this person re-enter my life as if we were in high school again. As if they still had the ability to make me feel the way I used to feel back then -- wanted.
But alas, feeling wanted is only a temporary feeling.
I want to say that if you can make yourself happy, then it shouldn't matter what other people think, say or do to you. But it doesn't always work that way. We all need a little acceptance in our lives, why can't it be by the one you want? What gets me, is the person we want to be accepted by. What makes this person so significant above others in your life? Is it a boyfriend? A girlfriend? Mother? Father? Boss? Best friend? What makes being accepted by one person trump others? Do we, as a society, have such low self-esteem that being accepted in a society of "fakes" is the only way to go?
Perhaps.
Maybe I should stop being acting "real" and act "fake," that way the people I want to accept me
will see that I'm worth it.
Who am I kidding? Nothing is worth losing your dignity. Your self-worth. Your self-respect.
Do I respect myself? Hell, of course I do.
*sigh*
Oh, what the hell. I wrote this, whatever you want to call it, "blog", "entry", "word vomit," as a way to release my anger.
I was content with my life last week. And then you came back into my life with a message. It was that message that brought my world int a pause. How was I supposed to know that you still had the ability to make me feel vulnerable. It felt good hanging out with you, I admit. But it angered me when you didn't even bother to text me or even message me again. I'm not someone you can just throw away like I'm last night's leftovers. I'm not that girl. I'm not 17. It's been four years.
Why did you come back?
Why haven't you finished what you started?
Tonight after work, me and a couple of friends are going to try out the new sushi restraurant, Wokano in downtown Long Beach.
This makes me mouth water.
