Life, Problems

@Timely_Panic_Attack

A'ight, so lemme tell you a little story.

Once upon a time, tiny Me was sitting in school on a particular Wednesday. Tiny Me had to go to a course online at home scheduled for 3.00, so she had to leave school at 2.30 to be on time.

Tiny Me listened to her teacher drawl on about biodiversity. Biodiversity was important, but not important to tiny Me's brain right now. Tiny Me started ignoring the teacher.

Somebody poked Tiny Me's shoulder, which brought Tiny Me out of the clouds. It was Tiny Cookie, Tiny Me's friend. 'Shouldn't you be going?' Tiny Cookie said. 'It's getting very late.'

Tiny Me lazily rolled her head towards the clock and read the needles. 2.40.

OH, SHIZZLE!

Tiny Me jumped up from her chair, gathered up her things, ran outside and put everything on a basket on the counter like she was supposed to, checked her desk again, waved goodbye to the teacher, and headed towards the lockers.

Tiny Me fished her keys out of her coat pocket before shoving her sketchbook in her backpack and running out the door of the school. Cold winter air blew at Tiny Me's face and tore at her lungs as she ran down the pavement of the parking lot, turned a sharp left and ran down the sidewalk again. Tiny Me stopped at the corner before crossing the road in haste, then unlocking the front door to her home on the corner and finding her computer.

Tiny Me flung open her laptop and stuffed in her passcode, begging for Firefox to load as she checked the time. 2.40.

2.40 I BARELY MADE IT I BARELY MADE IT I---

Wait a sec. 2.40. I have ten minutes. Ten full, entire minutes.

The hell, clock? What was that for?

Seriously, though, even if you eventually appreciate it, there's nothing quite like having a heart attack over being on time, only to discover you're early. Just please, don't die over it. That's the worst death, and you should not accept it.