Warning: Emotions Ahead

I don't want to go back to school tomorrow. Or Monday. Or all of next week.

Today started out bad enough.
I overslept...not by much, but enough to cause a little urgency in my morning routine. And I was feeling sick to my stomach.
Then my car wouldn't start. No lights, no beeps, no coughing. Nada. Peppy was basically DEAD.
So then I ran into the house to ask my mom if I could use her car. Got permission.
Realized I needed my N. But my N is taped down the middle (it froze and broke in half a while ago) so it wouldn't stick to the back of the Rav. So I looked for Tim's N, but it was gone. Nowhere to be found. So I ran back into the house and found some tape so I could tape my N onto my mom's car.
Then I called my teacher to tell him I would be a few minutes late.
Got to school, and then realized my locker key is on the same chain as my car keys, which I left with my dad, when I took my mom's keys.
So I had to go into the school at 7:30 (The time I'm supposed to be changed, ready, and IN CLASS...they're very strict about that) to get my backup key.
I got changed super fast, zipped downstairs, zipped back upstairs to get an apron, zipped back downstairs.

So that is how my day started. I was stressed out, and pretty frazzled. But I didn't want the bad beginning to ruin the rest of the day, so I tried to be positive. And for the most part the rest of the morning was pretty good. Better than yesterday, anyway.

Then just before lunch, our teacher discovered some poorly cut Nanaimo bars, and tossed 'em. And he was MAD. It wasn't even our group that did it, it was from the group before. Apparently that doesn't matter. We all bore his wrath the rest of the day.

My mom has been telling me ever since I was a little kid (crying because Paul and Mike called me names) that I am too sensitive and I take things too personally. And when my teacher said something undeniably rude and hurtful to me about the bread I made today, it was almost game over.

Then when I came home, and my mom told me Peppy's battery might be shot for good, I went into the bathroom, turned on the fan and cried.

I don't cry very often, but I'm still a girl, ok?!?! The tears have gotta flow sometimes. Apparently its healthy.

After I was done my weeping-session, I repotted my houseplants for an hour. And I feel much better, thank you. Plants are such comforting things.

Maybe I should quit culinary and go into horitculture.