A-Z Stories

D is For Desk

I’ve been trapped here for the last 4 hours. I can’t see anything but piles and piles of worksheets and formulas. Through the piles though, I see a computer shining the warmest and most comforting 7 letters known to an average millennial: N, E, T, F, L, I, X. It has become the only thing that pulls me back like a magnet towards this wretched desk, instead of outside to finish the rest of this assignment. Like a caged bird, I have no escape. This is my only line of communication with the outside world. Everyone is out spending time with friends at malls and other wallet-crippling destinations. With me being as cheap as I am, I was not going to fork over money just to hang out with friends. You may be wondering how I got here, It’s quite simple in fact. It all started in middle school, when I decided I want to do something with my life, biggest mistake ever. I had brought upon myself a curse that would bind me to this chair for the next 4 years. I first entered my prison similar to how a separated father sees his kids only during weekends. I was like that, I would sit in this prison only on weekends or nights before a enormous test. Gradually, I would see myself staying here for longer and longer. It has come to the point where this is the first and last place I go to after school. I have been temporarily locked here for about 2 months now and from how my schedule for next semester looks, this desk may as well be the Canadian version of Alcatraz. The only snorkel I have in this dark pit is this site (oh, this lovely site) and my beloved shows that I cherish dearly. Things like Stranger Things and my favorite show How I Met Your Mother are the only releases I have from this unforgiving slab of wood I call a desk. A light snack and a full water bottle will get me through at least a season and a half depending on the length of the season and episodes contained in those seasons. But for now I’m stuck here.

 

W is for Work

One of the few times I did leave the home though was to acquire more currency, through the emotional labor of the fast food industry. I went to work on the eleventh of November; Remembrance Day. I saw many people walking in from all different ethnicities coming to enjoy a meal at their local Panda Express (my place of labor). What was interesting that particular day was that 90% of those people all wore a poppy over their heart. Usually during early November it was either soldiers or their families, but today was different. As I cleaned tables and washed trays, I overheard multiple bits and pieces of people talking about a deceased or active family member in the Army, Navy, or Air force. I would hear small comments like:

“My grandfather was right there on Vimy Ridge. I could never imagine myself being there.”

I overheard a young man maybe early 20’s talking to what looked like his grandfather.

“In Vietnam I lost many friends. I didn’t die there but some part of me did.”

After hearing these little snippets of dread and pain I had a new found respect for our troops. When the clock struck 11:10 I could see people starting too bow their heads and the restaurant went silent for a minute and then everything went back to the way it was. It was the most incredible thing I have ever seen and it was a true spectacle how everyone can bond in this nation over the pain and struggles of our parents, grandparents, and great-grandparents is truly incredible.

G is for Gym

One of the weirdest things happened during the break was right after heading out for some innocent sushi. I suddenly had a burst of energy on one of the mornings and decided to go to the gym. But not before a stop at an all you can eat sushi restaurant. In hindsight, this was my biggest regret of the entire week. As I went to change and tie my shoes, I could feel the raw fish battling with my stomach and creating an epic battle of seismic proportions.  The high intensity running and jumping is a great form of exercise for a full and digested stomach, but mine still had lots of raw fish and vinegared rice inside of it that it would be considered a bio-hazard. Then the worst thing happened, this would test the true strength of my stomach: a pick-up basketball game! Intensive running, jumping, and shooting is a recipe for a disastrous afternoon. Coincidentally, my adrenaline started to kick in and I could no longer feel the sushi, instead it was pure energy. I would sprint not run. I would bounce not hop. I would score not shoot. Everything was going great until the game ended and I could no longer feel the Adrenalin. I could no longer breathe, my lungs grew thirsty for the precious oxygen that it desired. I was drowning even though I was 10 km away from any large water source. Thankfully my breath came back and I ended up home with a stomach ache within the hour.