Her day had not began well.
The morning had come oh too soon for her liking. She would have liked a few more hours of sleep and rest. Her body felt exhausted. Maybe a big construction car – or whatever they are called – had run her over leaving her body fragile and in need of restoration. After two moments of consideration, she decided to pass her first class starting at 7:45. Sleep seemed more important, needed in ways she could not truly explain.
Finally, rolling out of bed before 9 am — her day began. She popped a couple of pills of day-quill, hoping they’d kick in soon for relief. She also took a pill for her stuffy nose–please note, that pill did nothing. And so her day had started. Slower than usual, she’d had a rough morning. Her roommate’s snooze kept going off. Thought of wasting time streamed through her mind. Perhaps, she should have given up this shenanigans — she fought between defending her decision and the opposing idea. Time passed, it was too late to get to class. Peace flooded her mind.
Without much sense of urgency she arrived to her second – yet, current first – class of the day. She sat there, listening to the teacher present her lesson. Oh how hard it was to pay attention. Her mind went in and out of needless thought of feeling overwhelmed. She felt a fog found rest in her head and decided to stay there for the time being.
Time passed, class was out — she went and got food, did some homework in the library and got really cold. She decided it wasn’t worth staying indoors: 1. she was felt very cold, and 2. the day was absolutely beautiful outside. And so, she picked up her bag, magazines, and other belongings and headed outside. She popped a squad outside the library. Once she was happily sitting down, she pulled out her scissors — for her Script Writing class, her Prof. had assigned all his students to find stories, pictures, and characters from magazines, newspapers, articles — and so she wanted to do so by looking through the small pile she had.
The task felt good. She was reading some interesting things. The sun felt good on her skin — as if being outside brought a calmness to her disconnection and weakness. Someone came and talked to her, while a roommate can by and asked if she’d like tea. She said no — she didn’t want her roommate to buy her tea. Her sickness was not worth someone spending $4 on her. Eventually, the first person left, her roommate came back with a cup of tea in her hand.
She felt loved in a way she could to explain. Even though she had said no, she had actually desired one more than she had wanted to admit.
“I asked them to put extra honey in it for you.” The roommate said.
All she could do was say, “Thank you.” — even that wasn’t enough!
Her roommate left to study and she decided to put away her cuttings. After all, she had class in about 15-10 minutes. As she turned toward her leather backpack, she opened it, and found a spider. Oh dear. Frowning, she tried to get it out, but failed. She looked to her other side, at the tea, noticing a bee had taken a liking to it. Oh bees love honey, duuuh. In a fit of panic, she tried to shoo the bee with her pen. No benefit. She stood, taking off her shoe, and tried shooing it with that. Every so often it flew close to her face, scaring her — would it sting her?
She was becoming a spectacle. All she kept thinking was: I wish I was the one watching this! It could be such a great story to tell my class (the Script Writing one, the Prof. has been adamant about finding good stories) — this would have been a perfect one. As she kept trying to shoo the bee, she found no result. Finally she saw a friend,
“Can you kill bees?” She asked, her voice a slight whine. Everything felt like a disaster. She didn’t feel like she could handle it. Not now, not while she was sick! She was too tired to deal with bee’s and spiders!
The friend casually took the cup of tea, walked around the big wall, to come stand by her; while she moved her attention to the spider. No luck there either. Another friend appeared out of nowhere. As she tried pushing the spider out of her bag with her pen, the other friend gave verbal confidence. Then eventually, she picked up the bag for her. Before she knew it, the spider was out — the other friend was gone and she was gathering her things.
“I’m gonna go inside,” she told the first to help, while he stood there watching her. She was at a state of panic. She just needed to move, get away from the bees and spiders. It was all too overwhelming. Once she had her bag on her back and her papers in her hands, she turned his way.
They both began walking toward the main entrance of the library. “Actually, I need to go to class. Not the library,” she said absentmindedly.
“Oh,” she heard him let out and reached out to take her tea back.
“Thanks so much.” She told him and they walked down the stairs. She had thought he was going inside the library. “Where are you going?”
“Oh, I’m gonna get my bike,” he replied.
She nodded, “Oh, well, thanks! See ya.”
She just needed to get to class. Tell the Prof. she wasn’t ready, hoping it would be okay.
However, the moment she mentioned she was sick, he looked t her sympathetically.
“Go home and rest,” his voice came out compassionately. “Sometimes, when our bodies are tired and weak, it’s a necessary Sabbath. So go and rest.”
Taking a moment to thank him, she took his advice. She went back to her apartment and slept through class. Waking up about an hour and a half later, she felt alive once more.