Well, I can safely say it was a week-end from hell.
I missed Dirk so much on Friday while he was training. What the fuck was 7-11 thinking, making him train from 3-11 in the evening? I had abso-fucking-lutely nothing to do, and everyone else was busy.
I even called Jon, Katie's ex. You know I felt like a loser when it turned out he had something to do, and I didn't. I got online, and talked to C-- for a while. He told me he thinks only good things about me. That has to be a lie, doesn't it? No-one thinks good things about me nonstop. I don't know what to think anymore. Sometimes I think my self-esteem took a nosedive over the past year.
Then I get over it.
Eventually, I got bored (mainly because C-- signed off (he had plans)), and I went out to get a smoke. I bought my pack of cigarettes, and went over to Charlie's. I intended to sit in his complex's parking lot and have a smoke by myself, since it was unlikely my parents would pass there accidentally. However, Charlie was outside working on something, so I went over and talked to him. We talked about the Philippines, and Marilyn Manson. I took him over to the bar his wife works at, because his ride never showed.
At 11:15, I went to Dirk's house to see if he was back from training yet. It seems that not only had his training finished at 10:30, but his mother had called my house to see if I wanted to ride over with her. Ooops. It was alright, because all we did was watch T.V. and bring Aaron to work (Aaron had cussed out his mother, again, and she refused to drive him anywhere). I'm such a sucker.
Now, for the infamous 7-mile hike.
Let me start out by clarifying something: I am not an athletic person. My idea of a good time will never be running around and sweating. I think only sick freaks enjoy that sort of thing.
The first problem was my shoes. My hiking boots weren't completely broken in, so I had to wear my trusty Vans (I cleared it with the instructor first). Unfortunately, the entire trail was made of rocks. Not smooth rocks. Large, sharp rocks that were loose. Of course, this only became a problem going down.
Going up was its own brand of misery. No-one told me we were going mountain-climbing. Silly me, I thought we were hiking. My knee, that I did something nasty to when I was nine, started getting really shaky; and I started gasping for air (compliments of my smoking habit). I started hoping there'd be a landslide so I could die peacefully.
On very steep trails (which certainly describes the one we were on), they have "switchbacks". This is where the trail zigzags to avoid erosion. In pseudo-mathematical terms, the trail makes sudden turns that are 45 degrees or less. So, you'd get to the top of a switchback, round the corner, and stare up at the top of the nest switchback. I would sit at the bottom of a switchback, stare up at the top, and try not to cry. I was utterly miserable, and I knew there was no way out of it short of a heat stroke.
Another thing to mention is how the damned trail was marked. Some genuis decided to paint bright blue swatches on the trees. Theoretically, when you were standing at one blue-swatch-marked tree, you were supposed to see the next blue-swatched tree. Apparently, whoever was in charge of putting up the graffiti was drunk on the day they painted trees. The blue swatches were up to a quarter mile apart, sometimes after very sharp turns. The only way you could tell you were on the path was that the path had the most rocks.
I brought a quart of water. That was empty halfway through the hike. Next week-end, we have to carry all the water we'll need for two days on our backs. So that'll be...at least four quarts. That's going to be awful damn heavy. So I probably won't be bringing much in the way of extras.
I managed to make my ankles really sore. One girl got a sprained ankle, and one guy fell down the mountain and sprained his wrist. I didn't get home until 9:00, because we had to wait for the instructor, and she was helping them carry the girl with the sprained ankle down the mountain.
When I got home, my parents yelled at me. Then, I went to Dirk's house and he yelled at me. As if I could help how late I was. I didn't give them a specific time to expect me home. Bastards. Dirk apologized, though.
Sunday, we went shopping and to Katie A-'s birthday. She seemed really worried that we'd think her family was weird. Her family is nice compared to mine. At least they're not all pit vipers.
I brought Dirk to work on Sunday evening...his first night at his new job. I'm so proud. It worries me, though. The 7-11 he works at is kind of isolated, and I worry that he'll get robbed and hurt or killed.
I picked him up at 7 this morning, and he slept in my car while I went to class. Poor Dirk, I don't think he got nearly enough sleep, but he definitely wouldn't have been able to get enough sleep at home.
He's working again tonight. He'll probably make $600 before taxes this paycheck. Suck it up, Roachboy....how's McDonald's treating you?
I think stress is starting to get to me again....I walked into the hallway that connects my room to the rest of the house tonight. My room was dark, and so was the hallway. I looked into my room and saw a glimmer of red light. I started sweating immediately and backing away, looking for a light switch. All I could think was Red eyes...red eyes..... I didn't calm down until the hallway and my room were flooded with light.