At the bus stop

At the bus stop...
(story from last night)

I am so bored right now...missing the bus is something that I really really dislike, especially when I have to wait for an hour for the next bus.  It is my fault that I didn't leave my friend's house early...and now I am stuck at 22nd street...typing out this blog.

Man...I am so tired right now.  The chill of the wind helps me to stay awake at night.  I want to walk across the bridge, but I don't want to risk my life again like last time.

My job in Waterloo is somewhat giving me stress.  I don't know when I can find a house to live in.  Uncertainty gives me lots of fear, but I am trying to think positively.  I am glad my boyfriend will be with me, or else I don't know if I can go there alone.  I envy him for coming all the way to Canada to study English.  I don't know if I can do the same if I am him.

I think I am going to keep typing until the bus comes.  I didn't write for a long time.  Especially with my busy schedule, it is hard for me to spend time doing something meaningless.  I love blogging, of course, but it doesn't produce any results.  Yes...my friends can read my blog, but who will really visit my blog from time to time to see how I am?  If that friend really does care, I am sure he/she will talk to me face to face instead.  He/She doesn't have to visit my blog in order to know something about me.

The view of 22nd Street is somewhat beautiful.  I think I will miss this place after I get to Waterloo.  22nd Street is a place where I had spent hours and hours of time waiting for buses.  It's also a place where many of my memories were gathered.  For example, this place is the place where I last saw my big brother, and said good-bye.  He is a great brother.  He always take me to 22nd Street and make sure I can get to the bus before he goes back to his house in Sperling station.  I am very fortunate to have such brother.  One is very fortunate if he/she can find a true friend who cares about him/her.  My brother...I don't know if he truly cares about me, but I do somewhat feel happy that he had helped me go through the horrible times last semester.

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Oh yes...I finally took the bus.  It is 12:50 right now.  This is perhaps my 2nd time taking the last bus that goes back to my home.  I am feeling bad about me being to late to home.  I don't think I am a bad girl, but going back home does make me guilty.  Not only do my parents worry about me, I also feel worried about my own safety as well.

And trust me, I didn't do anything bad.  I am not an outgoing person who goes to night clubs.  I don't drink...

I think I should stop typing now.  The bus is now moving...I should take a little rest before I arrive home.