Allow me to take a small detour from Memory Lane. There’s a side alley I’d like to visit.
9/11 came and went with no fanfare in Australia. I saw it mentioned once, briefly, on a muted news program. Frankly, its not news anymore.
10:46pm (also known as 8:46am EST) rolled by, and I didn’t realize it until well after 11:30. After six years, it had simply dulled away.
The next morning, 9/12, was the morning of the res-college photo. 6am. I refused to go, seeing as I had an exam at 11am and a poster due at 4pm. However, my window had the misfortune to be near the bleachers, and all the yelling and blathering woke me up promptly at 5:42. I hated them by 5:47.
No sleep, no study, boy issues, family issues, exams and projects. Today was going to be miserable. The sun was aggravatingly bright again, and I couldn’t even walk outside without sunglasses.
After achieving a few more hours of sleep and being jolted awake by the Scissor Sisters at 9:52, I felt a little better, albeit wholly unprepared for the day. My little cousin leaves for college tomorrow but I couldn’t be bothered to call.
Dressed myself in dirty clothes I picked off the bottom of the floor pile, and didn’t bother to brush my teeth or comb my hair before heading off to campus. It seemed like wasted effort to me. Hell, waking up today seemed like wasted effort. I’d gladly go back to sleep, wake me up for mid-semester break.
But you know what? It’s entirely impossible to stay angry. The aggravatingly bright sun is rather pleasant when you’re wearing sunglasses. We may be in the middle of a crippling drought, but that just means the sky is free of clouds. It’s that perfect warm with a slight breeze. The locals are smiling, and I have a chocolate bar hidden in my backpack.
At 10:38am, the realization hit me: I’m happy. I don’t care I have an exam or a project, nagging moms or nosey friends. I don’t care that my credit card got stolen or my check went missing in the mail. It’s a beautiful morning, and I’m so fucking happy to be alive that I just cant put it into words.
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