I really wonder how you feel on these nights so alone

“if only you could see”

100 percentile, no errors, no miss.

May 15, 2009 || 2:29 AM || comment?

If I only was more human, I would count every single second the rest of my life..

What time is it now? Glancing at the clock, it looks like...shit. Only 11:05 AM. Already, I've been here for an hour. And for that same hour, I arranged card stock sheets in piles of five, I lined the sheets against the side of the paper cutter, I push down the "locking" arm that holds in place until I pull it up again. Then, I apply pressure with my palm, and slide the cutting wheel across, but it doesn't make a cut at all, so instead of going from left to right, I have to go from right to left. Two sheets are cut. Back and forth, two more sheets are cut, with an annoying small bit of the last sheet still attached to the upper half. I do this for three groups of five, fifteen pages of card stock. That's group one. Now for the group of fifteen that compliments what the cards in group one say. So far a total of thirty. And I do this for 10 more groups. I sliced through 300 pages today, all before 1:00 pm when I would help my first student review for his exam that's most likely on Monday. It's probably 12:20 pm now, and I'm feeling hungry. I change the time on the "CLOSED" sign to 12:45 and leave to get some lunch. I REALLY want sweet tea, so to Cane's I go. That line is longer than the lines when Oprah promised free fried chicken. Oh well. I don't have time to wait, only enough time to leave amidst the lunch rush traffic, no one lets me get into the turning lane so I have to straight through the traffic light and turn around in a gas station, then make it back to work. So I get Subway instead, and no sweet tea. Oh well. I am reminded how to do long/synthetic division when the first student comes in, we also worked on some FOILing and dividing monomials.

He leaves at around 2:45, and I have sometime until the next student. I finish eating the sandwich I left laying on the desk, with all of my hard work sitting around me. "Mathing" with your child. Counting, adding, grouping, fractions, money, shapes, measuring. I don't remember the others. What am I doing until she gets there? I don't remember that either. Fast forward to 5:30, when the last girl comes in for the day, it has been a long and slow day. Her worksheets are heavy on division, and it takes a little bit of time for her to finish them, so I get up, get some water, take all the cards I cut off the desk and surrounding computer area, and bring them to one of the tables and lay them out. I sit back down next to the girl, she still has about two or three rows of division left. Oh well. There's a black car sitting outside. I usually notice when someone leaves their car, but I don't ever remember seeing them leave their car. Is it the girl's parent just sitting and waiting the whole hour? I glance at the car a few times, trying to see through the tinted windshield, but to no avail. And if there is someone in there, they probably find me extremely rude for staring so much. So I stop looking. What if...they are waiting for me? I am always working by myself for hours at a time. The amount of traffic in the shopping area I work at is relatively high, but not behind the grocery store except for the mothers I see making their way to Pippin McGee to buy children's furniture. She's finally finished, I check her work, we go to the next section because that was just a warm-up page. Turns out she has more division. I start to worry more about the black car sitting outside, watching, waiting. What if someone decides to stalk me or follow me? If a strange person realizes I am a pretty much helpless girl working by herself always, and learns my schedule, and decides to wait for me to leave work one day? Usually by close there aren't any people on my end of the shopping area, because there's only two places behind the grocery store. Thinking about this, I don't think it would be hard for someone at all to try to do something like that. I wondered what would happen if the person in the black car was going to be that exact person, waiting for me to leave so they can rape me. I wonder how this would happen, strangely/scarily enough. I pictured different scenarios, one where I might be raped on the spot, nothing but cement, so I am getting scraped as well, maybe he is forcefully throwing me against the glass door of the empty lot to the left of our building. And maybe he has a knife? I don't imagine I'd have much of a chance to scream for help, he would probably threaten me with the knife, and I imagine how easily it would pierce my side, I feel this pain for a second and it makes my hands feel a little weak. Would I be simply left in my disheveled state or would they...try to dispose of me or kidnap me? I imagined that maybe I am left there, and I wonder if I would be able to give an accurate enough description of the man for justice. I wonder if a hospital would have emergency contraceptive pills. I'd probably need stitches for my side wound. This is assuming I am in one piece, and not run over by the car.

I'm not entirely sure what I thought about those things, in that much detail. Even though I was distracted from my work, the girl took a while anyways and once I came back to reality, she was just finishing her problems. By the way, the black car finally left. I don't know if it was a man or a woman, but it wasn't a parent of any of the kids.