Sketchism

I feel less nauseous than before. A few minutes ago I was in line at Walgreens getting ready to pay for a camera battery when the sudden urge to throw up came upon me. I covered my mouth and took deep breaths in an attempt to keep my lunch down. My eyelids were dropping, my heartrate was rising, and the anxiety wore on. I tried not to panic as I stood in front of the register, handing over the $8.02 and avoiding any kind of eye contact or foreign smells. The slightest aroma could’ve made me burst at this point. I walked out of the air-conditioned pharmacy and onto the streets of downtown Miami. Knowing I needed to get the food settled, I decided to just walk as much as possible. After each block I urgently saught for the closest trash bin. I didn’t want to risk blowing chunks all over the paved sidewalks. Some of my friends walk on those sidewalks. Couldn’t risk it.

The heat was unbearable and my jacket wasn’t helping. In Miami we have this thing called retarded weather. In the morning it’s sometimes the chilliest moments of the year and then hours later it’s back to the season of summer. Which is why I refuse to wear pants. I rock the shorts. Always.

Anyway, back to the story. I stop to take off my jacket, unload my pockets into my backpack, reposition the camera around my neck and all the while hoping to see a nearby trash can. Instead of a trash can, all I see is girls. I panic. I can’t throw up in front of a girl! It would kill my chance to work my charm. Unless they’re into that barfing sort of charm. Doubt it.

I shouldn’t have ordered that Peanut Butter-Banana-Chocolate smoothie right after that big sandwich. Thought I could handle it. Dead wrong. Fortunately I didn’t throw up, but I don’t feel quite as chipper as earlier this morning. Now I have this sudden fatigue and desire to sleep. I’m going to head to my car and take a nap. When I wake up I’ll start my English homework. Yeah, that sounds like a plan.

I hope I parked near a trash can.