Seeing as this is my sixth post, and it is also hashtag ThrowBack Thursday, I decided we are going to take it back to the Dark Ages. Yes, like it or not, we are taking a stroll down the decrepit, deteriorating Memory Lane to… Sixth Grade. (The crowd gasps in horror)
Specifically to one day towards the middle of the year, probably in the second quarter. To set the scene, try to imagine a girl (me, if you hadn’t gathered that) in an outfit that was purchased from Old Navy, but was styled in attempt to emulate an Abercrombie outfit. In order to get the full image, I am obliged to tell you about the fact that I refused to believe my boobs actually existed, so I wore some piece of shit fabric bra because I denied that I needed a real bra. So as horrible as this image is, this is how I looked at that moment- saggy, half developed boobs, awkward wannabe outfit, and red face because I was rushing to get to the bathroom before I was late to Spanish.
For some reason (I like to blame alien abduction) I thought it was a good idea to bring my backpack and a huge box of markers into the stall with me. Funny little story: the effing stalls open inward. This left approximately 2mm to squeeze my body and all my stuff out of the door. That obviously wasn’t happening. I fought it, but after a few milliseconds, I slipped and Oh my god, my favorite! My markers all exploded out into the toilet!
I remember staring in denial at the toilet water, which was now filling with swirls of rainbow marker ink, as the bell rang. I must have tried to telepathically remove the markers for 5 minutes before I could make my feet move.
I ran around the bathroom about 20 times and then up and down the hallway about 10 times. Eventually I found some random adult that I was not excessively afraid of and she pretty much took it from there.
But WAIT, there’s MORE. At that point, I was about 20 minutes late to Spanish, but there is no getting out of classes at that hellhole of a school, so I had to watch everyone stare at me as I walked in on the verge of tears.
Most people were awkward in middle school, but I literally only had one friend in that class. When I got to Spanish that day, I learned that we were starting a long term group project and oh hey, my single friend already had a full group.
And so, because my self-esteem had not been swiped away from me enough that day, my Spanish teacher assigned me to work with two “popular girls” who definitely saw through my Abercrombie imposter clothing and made fun of my socks constantly. Hahahahahaha haha ha yay puberty.