I got on the wrong bus after work, and it took me an hour out of town. Now I'm stranded at this bus stop in a strange city with an excruciating migraine and a full bladder. I don't know if the next bus will even show up as planned.
I want to cry, but I can't. Crying won't do me any good, and it definitely won't make the bus arrive sooner. I'm so unfamiliar with this entire island, and I just want to give up, but giving up means I'll definitely never get familiar with this place. If I was still in Orange County I wouldn't have to deal with this, but if I was still in Orange County I wouldn't have the opportunity to explore this place. I had it all figured out in that tiny OC Bubble, but out here on my own, there's no one to cater to me, and no one to dote on me. I'm not used to having to figure things out on my own. Usually, if I'm unhappy, I just ask for the person in charge and give them a piece of my mind until I get what I want.
Right now, there's no one to blame but myself, and I'm going to suck it up and wait...no matter how hungry or tired I am. I chose to move out on my own, and this is part of the package of being on my own. I learned today that when I'm lost I can't just curl up and cry, because then the bus home might just pass me by. I thought I had what it takes to make it on my own, but I never realized I actually had to use it so soon. Oh well, I guess this is part of growing up, and at least I'm learning from these mistakes earlier on rather than later.
The bus is finally here.
It's time to go home.