It Turns Out, You Can’t Save People From Themselves…

It Was Just One of Those Days.

I really do try to look at everything in the “half-full” mentality but some days, no matter how optimistic you try to be, you can’t be.  It’s just impossible.  Well today, was one of those days.  You know, one of those days where you just wake up on the wrong side of the bed. Literally.  Well that’s what happened.

Overslept.

Every day I wake up the same time.  6:30 am.  I wake up, get ready, and leave for Med school by 7:45 am.  So tell me why today, despite my alarm going off, despite my phone alarm going off, and despite hearing my siblings wake up and leave for high school, I did not wake up.  I am pretty sure I could have slept through a tornado if it ripped apart my house.  I was just dead asleep.  By the time I woke up, it was 8:55 am.  So, of course, the only rational thing I could do at that exact moment (and the oh so adult thing) was to sit up, and wine.  I didn’t even know how to react.  I just sat there for a good minute bitching to myself about how I am a jackass for oversleeping.  Naturally, it HAD to be Finals week.  I just HAD to have finals on the ONE day I overslept.  Great.  Just.  Great.

Enter:  Father.

So of course, to add to the already shitty mood I was in, my father pushes open my bedroom door.  Now I love my dad. Unconditionally.  To no end.  However, when I am in a mood, no one really should be around.  I just am not a nice girl when I’m upset.  I’m not afraid to admit it either.  (I’m working on it though.)  Anyways, so my father walks in the room and he asked me what my plans were, since I was running late.  I just glared at him.  Then he said, “Well, since you have finals, you should go to class.”  Being in the fabulous mood that I was in, I replied, “No DUH.”  Oh, just great.  That sent my dad into a pleasant mood himself.  I know I shouldn’t have been negative towards him but instead of apologizing, I just got dressed and left the house.

Near Hit and Miss.

I’m driving down the road to school.  I have 45 minutes worth of driving time to clear my head and rearrange my thoughts.  Hopefully I could make this day turn into something positive.  Ha.  I’m driving down the road, and I came to a stop sign.  I stopped and looked both ways.  Twice.  I started to make a left when this green van came out of NOWHERE and barely missed hitting me.  I had to pull off the road and stop to take a breath.  I thought I was going to have a heart attack.  I have a fear of getting into a bad car accident so bad, that some days, I am literally too afraid to even drive.  Nuts.  So after I got over my mini panic attack, I continued on my drive to school.

Final.

As soon as I walked into class, my professor gave me a stupid grin.  I knew I was in for it.  From the oh so wonderful morning I had begun with, I blanked on which final I was actually supposed to take today.  Which one was it anyways?  “Clear your desks.”  Shit.  I didn’t even have time to briefly skim my notes.  Oh well, if I’m not prepared by now, I deserve to fail.  The professor slid the tests face down and I swallowed what was left of my pride and flipped the test over.  Oh good, it was my clinical test.  I buzzed through the test within 16 minutes.  Yes, I timed myself.  I turned in my test and sat back down and let my head hit the desk with a loud thud.  You know that feeling you get when you think you aced a test?  Yeah, I wasn’t getting that feeling right about now.  I looked up at the clock.  Please.  Tick faster.

Exit:  Card.

Noon hit sooner than I realized it would.  Maybe that was a good thing.  Lunch break was one of the few times I looked forward to every school day.  It’s the one time where all of my Med School friends and I actually get to sit down and have one-on-one time.  It’s always an adventure, and today would prove to be no disappointment.  I walked downstairs with three other girls in my class and we piled in T’s car.  The girls wanted to run to ShopRite, a local supermarket to buy our professor and class a good-bye cake signifying the closing of yet another semester.  We drove over there and while the girls are looking at cakes, I decided that I was going to check out other items while I was here.  After 15 minutes of walking around, I walked to the check out line.  I piled my items on the conveyor belt and right before the cashier started ringing up my items, I opened up my wallet.  Sweet.  I must have forgotten my debit/credit card at home.  Oh how could this glorious day get any better?  Oh wait, it couldn’t.  So I swept the items up and returned them to their racks.

Shaken.  Not Stirred.

One of the girls had purchased a few bottles of soda to go with the cake, so I offered to carry them up to our break room, once we got back to our school.  We walked up the building and across the pathway up to the doors of our school, when one of the guys in our class greeted me at the door.  “Hey, those look heavy.  Here.  Let me help you.”  Well, I was in no mood to stop his strange act of kindness (for his manners anyway) so I gave in and handed over the two bags containing the soda bottles.  We took the elevator up to the break room where he lead the way for us.  He placed the bags on the table and left the break room.  Once we sat down, everyone started filling their cups with soda and opened the cake box.  T asked me to fill her cup up with Dr. Pepper.  So I grabbed her cup and opened the Dr. Pepper.  Bad idea.  The bottle sprayed all over me.  Covering me, my plate, spilling onto the floor, and staining my scrubs.  “I’m going to kill him!”  I yelled.  At that exact second, he came around the corner laughing uncontrollably.  Oh ha ha ha.  Jokes on me.  Again.

Sit much?

I cleaned up the soda spill with the help of the girls in the break room.  Everyone stared at me as I wiped Dr. Pepper off my arms and face with sanitizer wipes.  “You know what, maybe I should just sit down and keep my mouth shut for the rest of the day.” I giggled to the girls.  So as I tried to sit down, the chair I was about to sit on was still slippery from the spilled soda.  I barely even touched down on the chair when it slid out from underneath me, and flew across the room.  I fell to the floor with a loud smack!  Again, all eyes were on me.  I was beginning to hate the spotlight on me so much today.  Haha.  I picked myself off the floor leaving whatever dignity I had left, lying on the floor.

Cake Boss.

I stood up and walked over to the cake.  One of the girls handed me the knife to cut the cake.  Immediately understanding that today was NOT the day for me to be handling a knife, I put it down swiftly on the counter.  As I turned to back away from the cake, one of the girls bumped the table, causing it to shift and fall off the table and roll against my chest as I tried to catch it.  I backed away.  The cake had little damage to it, just the sides messed a bit, whereas my uniform looked like it had been through hell.  Splotches of soda splatter, cake icing, and water had stained my shirt.  I looked frustrated, and mentally exhausted to one of my best friends sitting at the table.  She knew what to do, as she helped me to the ladies’ room.

Results.

As soon as we walked back into class after our lunch break was over, my lovely professor had our finals flipped upside down on our desks.  Okay, I don’t even want to look, I probably failed, was all I could think in my head.  I slowly walked over to my desk and despite not wanting to see the end result, I flipped the page over anyway.

Well I’ll be damned.  I actually did well.  That’s when I realized, just to be a smart ass, my professor wrote “near perfect” under my grade.  Son of a…. Hahaha.  Okay, so I let that one slide, I did think it was funny but still….

Exit:  Keys

Dismissal of class came sooner than anticipated.  At least the day was over, finals were over, and this semester was over.  Over.  I walked out of class.  KEYS!  I ran back into class looking through everything, digging through the papers, desks, and crawling on the floor looking for my keys.  After looking around the room for a good five minutes, I realized, they were in my front pocket of my now stained scrubs.  I’m a genius.  I grabbed what little composure I still had, and started back down the hallway.

Enter:  Door.

As I was walking out of the building. I slammed my whole right side of my body right against the glass doors.  I looked around and didn’t see anyone within eyesight that would have seen my glorious exit so I walked a bit ahead.  “Miss, you dropped your notebook!”  I heard behind me.  Oh great. Someone did see that.  The secretary to my school did in fact, see my slam like a klutz into the glass doors.  Today just couldn’t get any worse.  Or could it?  I walked to my car across the parking lot and reached my car, just glad that today’s romp of school had come to an end.

Exit:  Phone.

T was standing by my car, putting her books into her car and waved me over.  We stood there talking, discussing the upcoming, much-needed weekend’s plans.  I looked down and patted my pockets.  Oh no!  My phone!  Before she could say anything, I was up and running back towards the door.  T ran after me.  I was up the flights of stairs and back through that tragic glass door before I could even think.  I ran down the halls toward my classroom door and realized it was now locked.  T and I restepped our tracks and coming up empty-handed, she decided to call my phone.  I told her it was on silent and it would come to no ail but she tried anyway.  “Hey. This is Roni’s phone. Who is this?”  What the…. someone had my phone!  “Oh haha, be there in a second.”  I turned to her questioning.  We walked back to the front desk, where the secretary holding my phone.  I quickly grabbed my phone and thanked her a thousand times as I headed out the door, slamming into it once again.  What little dignity had been left there, smudged on the glass and shaking as I left yet again.

 

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