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I had a massive tension headache yesterday and ended up collapsing into bed at nine o'clock. I slept for thirteen hours, and oh, my God, it's wonderful not to feel like poached ass.
I was so out of sorts yesterday that I didn't have the energy to recount a rare moment of human kindness. With all the ranting I do about the unending infestation of talking, breathing, breeding assholes that overrun this planet, it's only fair that I acknowledge those rare angels that walk among us.
There is a convenience store just off campus, and if there is time, Roomie and I will kip inside for a drink and a pack of Twinkies. Yesterday, Roomie decided to go alone so that I could bask in the morning sun by the fountain. This is a trip that takes ten minutes at most, so I thought nothing of it.
Well, forty minutes later, Roomie is still gone, and I am unraveling. I'm entertaining morbid visions of him being caught in the crossfire of a robbery or being mugged by a desperate junkie. Maybe the cashier decided the bills just dispensed from the ATM look odd and is holding him until the police arrive. If so, who's going to remember to check on me?
No, you can't depend on the police to check. When I was involved in an accident in 2001, the officers on scene swore they'd notify my boyfriend. They never did. Jerks.
Anyway, I'm convinced I'm going to be marooned in the heat, with no ID and no bus fare to even get home to call my mother and his father. Visions of dead Roomies and dirty nursing homes dancing in my head, I'm on the verge of tears and have just decided to make for my professor's office in search of help when a young man waiting at the nearby bus stop notices my distress.
"Are you all right?" he asks.
I tearfully explain the whole sorry tale. Without missing a beat, he offers to go look for Roomie at the convenience store. Armed with a description, he heads off, never mind his bus.
Not a minute later, Roomie appears with a McDonald's bag. Apparently, he'd decided to surprise me with breakfast. McDonald's is on the opposite side of campus, and therefore, requires a great deal of time. If I had seen him leave the convenience store, or if he'd told me where he was going, I would've been reasonably calm and not convinced he'd been abducted by angry shopkeepers.
My unsung hero returns to see Roomie standing sheepishly at my side with bag of filthy lucre in hand. I'm even more sheepish because I know I've probably fulfilled every hysterical cripple stereotype rolling, but hey, it's a scary goddamned world out there when faced with the possibility that you might be absolutely alone in it, especially when your armor is dented.
I never got to learn the name of my gallant knight-errant in glasses and sneakers because his bus pulled up as soon as he returned, but I am grateful.
Thank you, Universe, for the much-needed reminder that while everybody hurts, not everybody sucks.
Congratulations are in order to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
stellaluna_, who received multiple nominations for the ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
csifanficawards 2008.
No nods for me this year, alas and alack, but I console myself with the hope of next year and the twelve months at my disposal in which to write something worthy of nomination.
And now, I'm off to vegetate until Roomie returns from the grocery store with Doritos, chocolate, and taco fixings.
ETA: How I Feel Today, Or, OMG, PUPPY
I was so out of sorts yesterday that I didn't have the energy to recount a rare moment of human kindness. With all the ranting I do about the unending infestation of talking, breathing, breeding assholes that overrun this planet, it's only fair that I acknowledge those rare angels that walk among us.
There is a convenience store just off campus, and if there is time, Roomie and I will kip inside for a drink and a pack of Twinkies. Yesterday, Roomie decided to go alone so that I could bask in the morning sun by the fountain. This is a trip that takes ten minutes at most, so I thought nothing of it.
Well, forty minutes later, Roomie is still gone, and I am unraveling. I'm entertaining morbid visions of him being caught in the crossfire of a robbery or being mugged by a desperate junkie. Maybe the cashier decided the bills just dispensed from the ATM look odd and is holding him until the police arrive. If so, who's going to remember to check on me?
No, you can't depend on the police to check. When I was involved in an accident in 2001, the officers on scene swore they'd notify my boyfriend. They never did. Jerks.
Anyway, I'm convinced I'm going to be marooned in the heat, with no ID and no bus fare to even get home to call my mother and his father. Visions of dead Roomies and dirty nursing homes dancing in my head, I'm on the verge of tears and have just decided to make for my professor's office in search of help when a young man waiting at the nearby bus stop notices my distress.
"Are you all right?" he asks.
I tearfully explain the whole sorry tale. Without missing a beat, he offers to go look for Roomie at the convenience store. Armed with a description, he heads off, never mind his bus.
Not a minute later, Roomie appears with a McDonald's bag. Apparently, he'd decided to surprise me with breakfast. McDonald's is on the opposite side of campus, and therefore, requires a great deal of time. If I had seen him leave the convenience store, or if he'd told me where he was going, I would've been reasonably calm and not convinced he'd been abducted by angry shopkeepers.
My unsung hero returns to see Roomie standing sheepishly at my side with bag of filthy lucre in hand. I'm even more sheepish because I know I've probably fulfilled every hysterical cripple stereotype rolling, but hey, it's a scary goddamned world out there when faced with the possibility that you might be absolutely alone in it, especially when your armor is dented.
I never got to learn the name of my gallant knight-errant in glasses and sneakers because his bus pulled up as soon as he returned, but I am grateful.
Thank you, Universe, for the much-needed reminder that while everybody hurts, not everybody sucks.
Congratulations are in order to
stellaluna_, who received multiple nominations for the csifanficawards 2008.No nods for me this year, alas and alack, but I console myself with the hope of next year and the twelve months at my disposal in which to write something worthy of nomination.
And now, I'm off to vegetate until Roomie returns from the grocery store with Doritos, chocolate, and taco fixings.
ETA: How I Feel Today, Or, OMG, PUPPY