It’s been drizzling-to-raining today. Half an hour ago, I walked ten blocks to get to the nearest Bank of America ATM because I owe a friend some money. I decided to make the absolutely unurgent trip tonight, in the rain, for two reasons: one, I needed a walk, and two, it is actually not cold out.

I put the hood of my sweater on over my head and walked at a steady pace. I’m short but I like to take long strides to make up for it (although I scurry like a rabbit when I have to cross a street). 

About two blocks away from my destination two men walk by me. I overheard one say to the other, “Sometimes you see these white girls and you wanna say they got a great ass,” as he walked past me in the opposite direction, staring at my face.

Ten seconds later, from behind me I heard him say, “Damn. I was right.”

Normally this sleazeball thing unsettles me. But tonight, as I dunked my boots in puddles of rain and slush and made way for home, I laughed. 

Some days everything hits me all at once. The inevitability of my unemployment post-graduation. The inadequacy of my academic performance. The absence of artistic skills I’ve learned over the years. The fact that I will never make a French “r” sound. How my body frame is such that even at my thinnest I will always be too curvy (and the fact that I am far, far from my thinnest). The countless dollars being invested in an education I can’t measure or step back and analyze as I’m receiving it. The missed connections I’ve made. Every stupid thing I have ever said at a party or social function. Every drunken mistake. All the hypersentimentality I’ve indulged in. My stubby fingers and big nose. What I am even doing here when I can’t even play the most basic tune on a piano or get a tiny article in on time for the paper. 

On those days, very little works when I try to cheer myself up. And then I surprise myself with what does work; I think, well, I’ve got my health and my good taste. Oh, and yeah, I’ve got a nice ass.