Slump

Welcome back. If you’re a senior, then you know how I feel. And you like it. I underestimated how much slump would affect me. I thought things would feel different, but everything just seems “right.” It’s hard to explain. The last three and a half years were a blur; I can only recall faint memories of getting kicked out of a powderpuff game and some kid getting railed by a car.
First semester was dark and brutal. Nothing felt familiar: thinking about the future, staying in. Even people’s names on facebook were different. But now, as I tune out the words of my teachers, my brain has time to slow down and enjoy the easily missed wonders of day-to-day life.
Did you know that there’s a button on your calculator that just says “MATH.” I can’t tell if Texas Instruments is messing with me- what’s the catch? If you ever find yourself in one of those situations like, “I don’t know any of this s**t” Just press MATH and be done. They should come out with a CHEM button.
I used to fear the pop quiz but now my biggest concern is where I’m getting lunch. Now that I have so many free blocks, I am trying to break out of the ordinary Tango Mango or Bob’s run. I learned of these two burger joints, Uburger and Five Guys. I have been thinking a lot about which one is better. They are both about the same price but Five Guys gives more food and has better fries. Still, I feel more comfortable saying “I could do Uburger” than “I could do Five Guys.”
My friends like eating at this place in Brighton called Moogies. I don’t. I don’t like eating at restaurant whose name sounds like something you find in a fat kid’s bellybutton.
I’ve developed the ability to zone out for an entire long block eg. government b-block this morning. Here is the train of thought: a kid was wearing plaid. It reminded me of my Dad, a genuine plaid enthusiast. Suddenly, I felt grateful that my Dad dresses like a Dad and doesn’t try to be cool.
Then I was overcome with grief because maybe he was cool way back in the day. Then I thought of the perfect halfway point: a clothing line called Plaidass (for the badass Dad whose down with the plaid). Plaid throwback jerseys, plaid Nike pumps, even plaid doo rags. Then I thought of my dad rolling up in his mini cooper with his plaid doo rag wondering, “Where tha party at?” If you ever see me laughing by myself in class, now you know.
I’m making an official statement that the next couple months (I’ll call it four) are designated “me time.” If there is something important, let me know, but don’t tell me to summarize, conjugate, multiply, balance, or W.I.S.E. For all intents and purposes, I am officially over it.