Vanilla Wafers and the Future

Tuesday night I thought I might die. Like literally fall over and d-i-e. And while that may sound a little dramatic, in my realm of things slash my then state of constant panic, it sounded better than trying to survive the 24-hours that followed.

And then I saw my high school math teacher and she said It's all about the process, which gave me hope.

And then at Institute we talked about hope and I met a boy, who over coconut caramel chocolate chip brownies, told me he's not so great at math either. Then I came home and read a story about a woman named Hope who survived the internment camps and thought, It could be a lot worse.

And tonight this dude in the front row shared his Vanilla Wafers. And someone in my writing class said my story sounded like a painting. And when we were getting in the car after class we were whistled at. Twice.

And then we ate fresh peaches.
And there were pumpkins at the market today.

So while things seemed bleak, there's hope in new friends who hate functions and dudes who bust out Vanilla Wafers and pass them your direction as the lecture's about to go Snoozeville. And kind people who compliment your writing. There's hope in a box full of peaches and a crate full of pumpkins.

And tomorrow is October and October is my favorite.