When It Just Pours…

AmbiTion.

AHHHHHHHHHH!!!

Yea that’s the way I feel about that word.

Because if it weren’t for my obsessive need to be the best I wouldn’t feel like my life is dangling by a freakin thread. Correction: Less than a thread.

No. I’m not ambitious. I’m a glutton for punishment!!!

I show up every single day to be battered in the name of higher education for the sake of a better paycheck and a fancy NYC loft, which when the outrageous rent is due I won’t even bat a lash while paying it.

I probably owe everyone an explanation as to why my FB status yesterday was so…hmm, what’s the word…uhh…ah, yes, expressive.

Here is the run down of my Monday up to my Tuesday morning. Please keep your arms and legs inside of the blog at all times:

It is 5:45am.

I am awake…

::sigh::

I have no clue what it is that I will be doing today. No, I gave up on keeping track of that last week. It was an executive decision. It was either know where to show up and what we’re doing, ooooor keep the tiny piece of sanity I had left.

Hmm…I may have made the wrong decision.

I’m fighting the urge to look up the effects sleep deprivation has on the brain. I mean I guess I should be concerned if it leads to insanity, or death, but anything short of that, I guess I’m ok with.

I get dressed and look up the train times and begin planning my transportation route with a time buffer; just in case I missed a train or two. Skipped breakfast because it was being provided that morning.

I arrive 20mins early! Whoo go me!! Usually I’m 5mins early or 10mins late; there’s never a happy medium.

So breakfast served, followed by some boring panel of people talking about companies that, at 8-something in the morning, you just don’t care about. I paid attention enough to convince the overseeing eyes of administration, and even got the card for two potential job contacts.

Then we’re told what we’ll REALLY be doing for the day.

Apparently it’s “Give-a-Hoot” service day for the MBAs and we’re working with City Year.

Ok so my immediate thought is, “Cool, we get to hang out with some third graders and decorate t-shirts or paint banners or plant flowers.” Easy-peasy.

Yea, NO!

We get loaded onto a bus and half way to our destination we’re told what we’ll be doing: Park beautification. <– That is the most vague and misleading phrase I've heard in a very long time.

What they actually meant was FREE, BACK-BREAKING LABOR performed for the city of Philadelphia by a bunch of soft bodied suits!!!

OMG!

There were these chipper "senior volunteers" for City Year, that were our group leaders. When I say chipper, picture a brainwashed kinda demeanor. Like, extra super hype. <–Please it was too hot for all of that!

So they break us out into 3 separate groups, which somehow I wound up in the biggest group — NEVER a good sign.

Then they hit us with an elementary school throwback: Jumping jacks!!! <–I'm dead serious. We get through the first set and we already suffer our first casualty! Some girl twisted her knee.

One down, fifty-four to go.

We finish the "excercise" session and then we find out the really real.

Apparently, my group, the large group, has been assembled to clear out an old fishery processing plant, hut, house thingy.

Wait, wait, wait…You want me to do what!?!??

Ok this little house thing was a bit bigger than your traditional shed and looked like a crack house in the middle of a park! Inside the floor was covered with giant miscellaneous pieces of wood, there were random iron railings, an old icebox, a wheelchair ramp (I know right!!?!), cinder blocks, and tons concrete dust from bricks that looked like they met the Incredible Hulk on a real bad day…

It was quite beautiful really…very modern post-apocalyspe feel.

…But we have to clear ALL of this out??

…Like…ALL of it??!

TODAY??!!!

Pssh, shittin'me!

I was not a happy camper!! It's hotter than the Devil's draws in August on the sun, and you want me to kick it in this lil hut coated with a good 5-6in layer of concrete dust and God only knows what else!??!

Nah, son. It ain't goin' down like that!

One of my group leaders says that he needs 2 people to volunteer to paint. My hand shot up so fast, he didn't even get to finish his statement!

I'll do the painting…Thankyakindly.

Ok, so…I'm not that great of a painter. I got paint on my CUSTOM made Nikes! I got paint on my nice black shirt! I got paint on my sunglasses! I got paint on my freakin' AX watch!!

Done!

So done!

Done-y, done, done!!!

I then officially move from painter to project facilitator! I was qualified for that job because of the elegant way that I pointed at things in the distance (no seriously someone said that I pointed very elegantly. Uhh…thanks?…I guess).

As project facilitator, I was in charge of making sure my team was hydrated. Making sure they used proper technique and were not overexerting themselves. And also making sure they didn't miss a spot. LOL

The other two teams got easy jobs. They were weeding around the river or picking up trash throughout the park.

Pssh, I was gonna be joining one of them after lunch!

Finally lunch rolls around, and we all get to sit back and rest our muscles for a bit. We trade chips, cookies and sodas like many a lunchtime back in the day, and reminisce about awesome shows on Nickelodeon and how Sesame Street just isn't the same. <–True story.

All too soon it's time to return to the "Crack Hut" and finish up the last bits of heavy lifting, painting and shoveling.

We get everything finished. Do some ridiculous circle "share your feelings" thing, and we peace out!

On the bus, everyone looks a mess! People who are admittedly "suits" are covered in dirt, grime, dust and grit which is adhered with a nice fresh coat of sweat! YUM!

Once back on campus, we disperse quickly, because it's only 3:15 and this is the earliest we've EVER gotten out! I need to get back to Jersey so I can get my car and then drive BACK to campus so I can buy my Stats text book.

Yea…that didn't work out.

I hopped on the Broad line up to Walnut-Locust and walked down a connecting tunnel for PATCO 12-13 and Locust stop. Its 3:55 by the time I get the PATCO station and I'm still waiting. I have to be back on campus by 4:50 so I can get in the bookstore.

The train comes and now it's 4:10. I have basically a half an hour to get back to Temple.

I reach Ferry Ave. station at 4:25 and I'm thinking in my head that there IS a possibility for me to make it in time…Highly unlikely, but worth a shot.

So I get my NASCAR on and make it over the bridge and on to Broad Street by 4:45. I just might make it!!

Ha! No!

Because I didn't learn my lesson the first time I tried to go off the beaten path and "navigate" Philly, I had to go and do it again…SMH some people just don't learn!

I turn down Cecil B. Moore, because that's where I think the bookstore is.

…I think…

Yea, it wasn't!

Or maybe it was and I rode clear past it!

AHHHHHHHHHHH!!! It's 4:55.

Now I'm frantically searching for parking after having circled the block to get my bearings about me. I find a spot, park and jump out like a crazy person. I am sweating and walk/running to the student center.

I get there!

It's CLOSED!

It's 5:02.

%(*&!

So then it occurs to me that all hope my not necessarily be lost because there is another bookstore up the street!

So, after banging on the back door to the bookstore for about 5mins, I run up the stairs and go to the information desk and ask the girl sitting there when the other bookstore closes. What I realize now, was that she didn't answer that specific question. Well at least not right away.

I asked for the number to the other book store: it's 5:10.

She finds it and gives it to me. As I'm calling, she informs me that the bookstore on Broad is also closed!

WTF!?!?!

AHHHHHHHHHH!

Now, I'm pissed!

I didn't even say thank you.

I walk back to my car, so mad I could kill.

Yea, yea, I know, I should have already had my book. And I thought I did…until I didn't!

The book I ordered was the solutions manual, NOT the text book.

::Siiiiiigh:: F.myyyyyyyyyyyyyy.L.

So I drive back to Jersey like a bat out of hell, and I get home and promptly share my infuriated mood with my family. I go on a silent tirade, throwing shit, slamming shit, cursing at myself…then I decided to take a nap!

Best nap of my life!!! It was so on point!

So I'm refreshed and energized! I get up, I eat dinner, I spill the contents of my messenger bag on to the kitchen table, and begin that evening's journey through expected values, binomials and probability distribution. GAY!

I call a study buddy a total of 8 times trying to make sure that I'm on the right track. I'm half on and half off; and for me, that's good enough.

I finally finish…at 3:47am. I get the world's fastest shower because the paint, dirt and grime, were still on me. <– Yea, gross, I know, but I was (and still am) so sleepy!

…Two hours later…6:00, it was time to get back up. Sooooo, I kept hitting snooze and woke up at 6:45. I needed to be at the train station by 7:15!!

DAMNIT!!

UGH!!! It's Tuesday.

Then, of course, I couldn't remember if we were meeting with corporate panels or not. So I went strait up the middle with a dress shirt and jeans. LOL

So I race down 295 to get to Ferry Ave. station. I strategically cut through the parking lot and managed to be blessed by the parking lot gods!!! A nice front spot! WHOOO!

BAM!!

I swing in my too good to be true parking spot and my front bumper gets lodged under someone's towing hitch!!!

SON OF A BITCH!!!!!!

GODDAMIT!!!!

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!

Being who I am…I quickly survey the area for witnesses…Real talk if there was no one there, I was gon' go 'head on 'bout my business and catch my train…Buuuuuuuuut there was a guy who worked for the Port Authority standing right there and saw the whole thing!

Shit.

So I get out and start to assess the damage. None to the truck with the hitch. An ugly scratch on the bumper of my car. Ugh, I'm sorry Betsy Wets.

So he comes over and says, "You need to fill out an accident report."

FOR WHAT!??! All the damage is done to my car! It's a scratch for God sake!

Then he continues and says, "Oh, one of the cops are here. I'll radio them over."

F**k you, dude, f**k you.

So as he's radioing for the cop to come over and survey the damage I did to MY OWN CAR, the train comes…the train goes.

Pissed.

So the cop finally comes over. About 5' 9-10", clean shaven, husky(not fat husky, but has muscles husky), young white guy, between 24-28. Under different circumstances, no rush to get to school or property damage, I woulda hollered. ::chuckles:: Heeeyyy Daaaaddddyyy. <– I don't have good sense. Even in serious situations.

So he asks me what happened (that damn truck wasn't parked up far enough for someone IN A RUSH to park behind them!). I show him the damage. He asks me would I like to fill out a report. Hmmm, lemme think about that…Uhhhhhhhh, NO! But I will, however, take YOUR information Mista Offica.

…A train comes….A train goes…

Ugggghhhhh!

So he says it's no big deal since the damage is on my car; and at that point in time I didn't give a damn. He tells me to have a good day, and before he was back into his SUV, I was already halfway through the parking lot, waving back telling him to do likewise. I thanked the old Port Authority guy that dimed on me, because if it had been my car that got hit, I would have appreciated knowing that someone was looking out for me and mine.

I finally get on the train and over the bridge and up to Temple's campus without incident. It's the little things in life, right?!

Now it's time for Stats…Hooray! I could hardly contain myself…from breaking down into uncontrollable sobs. Yea, not one of my favorite classes AT ALL!!

The professor collects Monday's homework, passes back the previous week's homework as well as our first quiz.

The quiz…yea.

I won't tell you what I got personally, but the class average was a 65%…yea so…that should give you an idea of what we're all going through.

The rest of the day progressed, thankfully, without any additional hijinks!

::sigh:: I gotta do better. I gotta eat better. I gotta get more sleep, too!

But I don't see any of that happening. Well, except the getting better part. I mean that goes without saying, right?

I'm just saying…I am ME.

You guys are soo lucky that I know you like hearing about the shenanigans that invade my life and I appreciate the love ya'll show me as a result. Thanks!

“Work it, make it, do it,
Makes us harder, better, faster, stronger

N- n- now th- that don’t kill me
Can only make me stronger
I need you to hurry up now
‘Cause I can’t wait much longer
I know I got to be right now
‘Cause I can’t get much wronger
Man I’ve been waitin’ all night now
That’s how long I’ve been on ya

SMH…pssh, you better preach Kanye.

Speak your mind….

Advertisements

About themeanblackgirl

My name says it all!
Gallery | This entry was posted in Shenanigans. Bookmark the permalink.

3 Responses to When It Just Pours…

  1. Alisa says:

    I {heart} my morning readings! My coworkers probably think I’m crazy when I’m laughing to myself lol

  2. Vanessa says:

    wow that’s a crazy couple of days i now fully understand the meaning of the fb post lol

  3. I hate crazy mornings man… Yet again I was weak reading your morning story… Keep them coming…

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s