Final Workshop

7:00 am; An alarm clock sounds. A yawn, a groan, silence.
7:05; The alarm clock sounds again. A yawn, a groan, a sigh. Good Morning Frankenstein.
7:06; Frankenstein stumbles towards the bathroom. Dragging sheets and blankets behind him. The sheets lay across discarded t shirts and jeans like a giant white snails trail. Frankenstein pulls and tugs at mysterious dials until, magic, hot running water.
7:15; I am a blank canvas. I am a pale mirage in the bathroom mirror; a white blur with a fuzzy brown top. I fumble for contact lenses and wince as I apply them. Clarity, a damp 22 year old lurches into view.
7:17; I reach for my tools, toothbrush, deodorant, hair gel, twisters, razor, moisturizer, straightners, comb.
8: 45; My bathroom artistry is complete and I stand excitedly before the closet door. I twist the handle and a world of possibility lurches into view. My brown eyes flick from item to item.
Hoodies; too warm
Sweat pants; to jock
Sarong; why did I ever buy this?
Trainers; to trashy
Suit Shoes; to smart
PERFECT
Cardigans; Practical and quintessentially British; now I just need to figure out what t shirt to wear.
10:05 I am dressed, but very late for class. Still, there is always time for a quick cup of tea.
10:22 I arrive in my first class of the day.
I felt rather self conscious in class today. I could tell the teacher was not pleased that I arrived a good twenty minutes late. He probably thinks I overslept; if only he really knew. I wanted to talk to Amanda during the break but I was worried that my hair had slipped and went to the bathroom to check instead. By the time a got back to the classroom class had started again. I spent much of the rest of class daydreaming. At the end of class I tried to talk to Amanda again, but I panicked and just asked if, “we needed the big or small blue books for the exam” she looked unimpressed. I was mad; I feel sometimes that all that hair care product was for nothing.
I find it very infuriating not being able to express myself. I mentioned this to a friend. I said, “I wish I could be as confident sober as I am when I am drunk?” He said “why not be drunk all the time?” I am not sure that is the answer to my problem.
The answer I think is to just stop thinking so much. Drum roll and cliché; to live in the moment. I heard that if the world feels overwhelming you should take a deep breath, and focus on something immediate. This is the example I was given; “like how your ass feels in the chair”. I would try it but I would hate for Amanda to see me wiggling around in my chair like some manicured monkey.
I went home somewhat defeated; class had been rather wearing and I couldn’t help but feel that my cardigan had lost some of its sparkle. Homework was a drag and I couldn’t really get my mind off Amanda. Would she ever really go for a guy like me? I tried to skim through the fonder memories of my life and instill myself with a sense of confidence. I made out with Rachael Wright behind the bike shed in middle school; that was awesome but not a great story for Amanda, I finished 17th in the school cross country which is not bad for a soft around the edges wannabe rugby player. I travelled after high school I suppose that makes me cultured. I have a rather nice collection of ties and C3PO went to my high school; I wonder if Amanda is a Star Wars fan. Probably not, pretty girls like that don’t like sci fi they like rom com. Maybe I should watch more romantic comedies.
I asked my roommate if he owned the Notebook, he punched me in the face.
It wasn’t a total loss though I have a killer black eye now and I always wanted to look more rugged. I went back to the bathroom and flexed in the mirror for 20 minutes; in the right light, from the right angle, in the right mirror I actually look quite buff.
I was pretty tired after all that flexing so I turned into bed pretty early. I actually feel pretty good about myself when the lights go off. I wish I could be as happy around others as I am around myself. I think that self consciousness kills more people than cigarettes; not literally but you know what I mean.
I slip out the contact lenses and sink into the pillows my mind is racing. Will Amanda ask about my black eye when she sees it? Should I be honest? That seems like a bad idea. If it’s hot what should I wear, if it’s cold what should I wear, should I go to class drunk? Did I do a good job on my homework? Should I have joined a fraternity? Was college the right choice for me? This is all so overwhelming, wait, how does my ass feel right now? Wow… that does work. I guess finally time to get some sleep; Casa Nova has a big day ahead tomorrow.