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16 weeks, but who's counting?

Knee-jerk impression of SOC and PSYC professors: wonderful. Check back in a few weeks.

I ran like the devil was chasing me. If the devil's name is School Jitters with a side of What If Thing 1 Doesn't Make It And Remains An Ungrateful B-hole Forever?

Sunday morning, I received a twenty-three year old apology from a girl who'd tormented me through school. She said her actions haunted her for years, until she found me on facebook and reached out. I guess I have never considered myself to be the object of so many sleepless nights.

I'm not totally innocent. After one particularly bad episode at school, I took my frustrations out on a girl whose locker was a few down from my own. She never participated in the bullying but was friends with people who did. I couldn't understand how she managed to fly under their radar. I walked over, still full of humiliation and anger from being bullied by her friends. I waited until she worked the combination to her locker and then I reached out and slammed the door shut. She looked at me and said nothing. Her friends had just done this very same thing to me. I did it one more time, and she looked ready to cry. "I'll tell them," she said. "So? Go ahead. They make shit up about me already. I don't even care any more." I walked away. Then I turned back. "What did I ever do to make them pick on me? I don't even know any of them." She ignored me and grabbed her books and coat, slamming her locker shut as she walked away. I didn't feel any better for having rolled the shit to rest at someone else's feet.

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