intent to graduate strut causes collision and other Caitlyn Problyms.

For three days, I have had adequate amounts of uninterrupted sleep and woke up far from refreshed. Instead of reaching a reasonable conclusion of any kind, I began to suspect that I was harboring a Tyra Durden of sorts. GET IT? 'cause I'm a girl. and also, I have nice arms. Then last night, I began a new uterine cycle.

of course!

my fuse was short and my attention span, shorter. but let me tell you, I felt like the air was made of syrup I was moving so slowly. that is, until I signed up for my final three lab slots and picked up my "Intent to Graduate" form. with these [minor] accomplishments complete, I had a certain runway element to my walk. and instead of looking at the hall unfolding in front of me, I was reading the verbiage over and over.

and blop! I straight up collided with someone in the hallway -- which, in retrospect, was damn near abandoned. I look up and meet eyes with Valet Man Man Man Man Man. His eyebrows furrowed, and he wordlessly pointed to his head in what must have been a reference to the rather drastic haircut I got since last I saw him. I, however, did not stick around to find out. I may or may not have actually verbalized my apology before breaking into a run and booking it out of there. nooooo thaaaanks.

this encounter comes on the heels of my last date disaster, masterfully summed up by the beautiful Norma, "CAITLYN, you could be chopped up into little pieces, sitting in a freezer right now. Have you tried Match?"

begin scene the night before, at which point boy asks girl to go ice skating in Plymouth. girl, knowing nothing about Plymouth but where to find the plantation and the Mayflower, agrees on the condition that boy directs her. boy replies with an address.

girl wakes up late, googlemap's said address, and runs out the door. girl arrives, not at an ice skating rink, but at a residence five minutes before agreed upon rendezvous time. instead of turning around, like her stomach intimated to her that she should do, girl rings doorbell. boy answers door in pajamas. at noon. boy invites girl inside, and instead of leaving LIKE A REASONABLE GIRL, girl follows boy inside. boy blames girl for his lack of preparedness and sets up Netflix for girl while boy showers and blows his hair dry.

boy was an excellent skater. girl was not. girl had absolutely no patience for the purposefully disjointed conversation, composed mainly of mammal excrement. girl pushed up the meeting time for a wake two hours in order to make a speedy escape. boy asked girl when the two would see each other again. girl, despite having a terrible aversion to disappointing others on purpose, was able to say never.

so in essence, I am going directly to hell. I am not passing go. I am not collecting two hundred dollars. but I am not chopped up in little pieces in a freezer somewhere. so there's that.