"Shit or get off the pot."
I hear Jackie's voice echo in my mind as I am folding shirts on the ever messy T-shirt table at work. Left side, right side, fold. Left side, right side, fold. Shit or get off the pot, shit or get off the pot. The phrase echoes in my mind like a million tiny needles trying to pierce my thoughts and make sense of them. Already I have a feeling it isn't going to work.
I've been thinking about breaking up with him a lot lately in the past week. I don't think he has done anything wrong, at least I can't pinpoint anything. Maybe it's the fact that I met new people in a certain class that remind me of other people. History, wonderful and horrible at the same time. I want out but I can't hurt him, I've said this to myself so many times before...My mind seems like a piece of broken vinyl, playing the same line over and over and over again until someone decides to move the spindle off the tape and quell the sound. Unfortunately the turntable is sitting in an empty room with no one around to move anything.
It's my job now, I have to figure out what to do. Too bad it's such a hard question. I'd rather have taught the entire Conics unit to myself than be weighted down with the burden of explaining my feelings, of standing up for myself. Anyone who knows me well enough knows how much this is bothering me....oh wait, that comes to, let me count...no one. Because it's my decision, unfortunately.
I hate Math, but sometimes I wish life was like it. There are many variables but in the end they always represent something, and everything adds up in the end. Rows of perfect equations show up on clean white paper, especially if you're good at finding them and solving them. 1+1 is always equal to 2, and 3+3 is always equal to 6, no matter the time, the place or the occasion. The only thing I like about Math is the order of things, the fact that there is always one solution, one predetermined answer.
Of course, life cannot be like Math, you can't just plug things into a calculator and hope things will work out. The ironic thing is that the variables are usually x and y, which are the same as the female and male sex chromosomes. I always thought that was funny.
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