Let's see, what else... well, I'm pretty sure that my room mates think I'm a hippie, because I take yoga classes at seven in the morning, I buy my produce from the farmer's market, I filter my water (now that's just smart living), I use solar powered lights in my bedroom and I occasionally wear ankle-length, floral print wrap skirts. I am not, in fact, a hippie. You should see the amount of paper recyclables that are just sitting in my bedroom trashcan. It's terrible.
Another thing that's terrible this time of year is the heat. It is unbearably warm for September. Sometimes I wonder if it's worth even going to class at all. Maybe I should just drop out and actually be a hippie. I'm sure there's a commune somewhere in Tallahassee. Hopefully a commune with air conditioning, or at least some shade. What makes walking to class in the heat so much worse is that three of my five classes are at the top of the tallest hill on campus. These three classes all fall on the same day. I make that trip three times. I believe a little illustration is necessary so that you truly understand how this impacts my day.
How everyone else looks arriving in class on a hot day:
How I look arriving in class on a hot day:
It doesn't help that I'm the fair skinned descendant of what must have been every single Irish, Scottish and Welsh immigrant to seek the shores of America. I overheat easily, then my face turns bright pink and I feel like my head is going to explode. Meanwhile, everyone else on campus is a plastic Barbie she-devil that doesn't sweat or even flush under the blistering pressure of 95 degrees worth of UV rays. The comparison is just pathetic.
Also note how everyone who isn't me is inherently bustier than I. How you can carry around that much weight on your chest alone and not break a sweat is beyond me. So, since I can never join the Barbies, I just grimace accommodatingly, like the night troll they mistake me for, as they ogle and titter behind their manicured, plastic fingers.
No comments:
Post a Comment