This is who I am

For some reason when I get in the shower my mind goes into overdrive. It doesn't happen in the mornings when I just wake up. It only happens when I have been awake for a while. Anyways, for some reason I keep thinking of this girl I went to middle school with. The last time I saw her was years ago. I think the last time I was still in high school, if memory serves.

Okay, so this girl. First, she would sometimes ride my bus. In middle school we didn't say two words to each other. Not that I resented that or anything. Though, she did give off a "cooler than you" aura. So she was to cool for me, whatever. I sat and moped anyways. Plus what made her ever so cool is she dated the most beautiful boy ever, Xavier. The most beautiful boy. She went home with him sometimes on our bus. You know, she was thin and dressed really cool, maybe she was bad. We were 13 maybe she was having sex. You could never tell. Who knows she may have been. After that year I didn't see her. I didn't really think about her. When I did see her again we were working together. I was still in high school. I don't think she was going to high school. We were the same age? Did she quit? I can't seem to remember.

The point of the story is this. When I saw her again I was WAY cooler. One of Kyle's friends was working with us. He is so super cute and sweet. So obviously she wants him. She came over to our house. Oh, did I mention that Kyle, this particular friend, and I all lived together and worked together. I think that may be important. She comes over and, wow. She was loud, really load. She didn't have anything interesting to say. Everything she said was, I can't even describe. It was horrible. Kyle's friend became uninterested really quickly. When she quit the job she went to work for Joy Men's Club. Yes, that is exactly what it sounds like it is. Once she dressed nice and cool, if a bit grungy. It was the nineties after all. But when I saw her again she wouldn't wear a bra and she really needed one. She told this really loud story about how her roommates wouldn't let her into her house and so and so called her a bitch...blah, blah, blah... I tuned it out after that. Plus we were in the kitchen and it was echoing. It was enough to make me want to kill myself.

Why do I think of this in the shower? It sneaks up on me too. All of sudden I find myself thinking, "Why in the hell are you thinking about this?"