I am in poetry.

You have no idea what I went through to get here.

1) Missed my bus, watching it go right past my building before I even walked out the front door.
2) Tried to call my brother to get him to drive me, and couldn't reach him.
3) Caught a different bus.
4) Got off the different bus, slipped on the icy sidewalk, fell hard on to my hands and knees. Jeans got full of salty, icy, COLD, muddy water, as did gloves.
5) Missed the bus I was transferring to.

Sigh.

But I'm here. And I think we're about to read The Waste Land. Wait, no, The Snow Man. Then why has she just been talking about Eliot and The Waste Land?

Anyways. I'm here. For my last class before break. Be proud. I'm in pain.