yes, you read right. because that's what i am. i came home in a huff today, because today, as i would most definitely call it, has been my worst day ever. i would if i could, say that i've had worse, but really i wouldn't.
started out lazy. was in no mood to get outta the house. once i was out, i remembered that they'd be critiquing my article (or most probably at least, since it was film class today) today in the CW workshop. it's raining, it's cold, but that's ok. i really wanted to go to class, not only because of the critiquing but also because i actually ENJOY this one. it's like, i can hear myself think, i can actually SEE a story form, and it's so much more peaceful and comforting being in a room full of people with the same intentions as you. so anyway, that's what class is like for me. now back to worst day ever. i wait for the train, while being pelted softly with cold drop of water on the back. once the thing arrives, it gets delayed by about half an hour. now, the ride isn't so quick either. a journey which usually takes about 45minutes, took about an hour and a half today. so when i'm nearing my final stop, mum calls and tells me to return since it's pouring in the side of town where i live, and that it might just get flooded (yes, that's what happens in Mumbai when it rains for half a day). so i'm a lil bummed, and say fine, completely forgetting about class and concentrating on feeling like a fool. now, i catch a train BACK home, with a small snack that honestly, turned out to be disgusting. this train too, is delayed, and full of stinky women who love to step on your feet. while on my way back, the missing class angst starts creeping up. i push it away as i need to get down. at the door. what happens to someone like me who's already had a bad day? i miss getting off at my stop. yes. i i miss it. and that is when the tears started pricking mildly. i get off at the next stop, walk in the drizzly weather and catch a rickshaw a little further and finally make my way home. THEN the tears come little by little. i kept blaming my mother, telling myself it's all her fault. i reach home, and run into the bathroom for a shower, and bawl my lungs out. mummy anger still on. when mum sees me, she asks what's wrong. and then it all comes out. i tell her they'd be reading (i think the mummy-anger took over my brain and turned it into a bitch) my article today. the guilt on her face. oh lord. i was still blaming her in my head until she said that she was very upset now and wish i'd told her all this.
now you see why i'm the worst daughter on the planet? until sometime ago, i was mad at her, all the while thinking "you're a mom! you're made to remember my random ramblings!" but now, i'm so guilt stricken that i'm nearly sobbing because i made her upset. i love my life (big wave of sarcasm, if it couldn't be noticed).
now, can i have the WDA (Worst Daughter Award) please?