Why Airport Security Loves Me

I was sitting up on the third floor of the school today on my 30 minute break. I took a small but much needed nap. I woke up on my own without my phone's alarm going off, and lay there thinking.

It had been a rough day so far. I was in one of the worst moods I think I've ever visibly been in while at Miniapple. I kept thinking about quitting. About my plan to finish up the Patch demos first and then find a new job. About maybe striking that plan and finding a job first while finishing up the demos.

The answers are there but my brain's been in a funk for two years where it's hard to sift and plan out cohesive bulletpoint plans.

This frustration usually causes me to dwell on somewhat violent subjects. Self-destructive or just plain old weird thoughts. Today, I realized that tons of airplanes fly over the school on their take-off patterns from the nearby Minneapolis airport. The sound is deafening, but being that it's a constant sound, you stop paying attention to the airplanes and their engines hundreds of feet above.

I watched them fly through the trees, thinking "What if I saw them dropping bombs on the city? This would be the perfect spot to watch from." It's true. The third floor looks on downtown Minneapolis from Dinkytown, which is a very good view indeed. You could watch an entire downtown massacre from the school if there ever happened to be one.

If I saw a plane coming my way dropping bomb after bomb in its path, knowing it would be dropping a bomb either across the street or on the actual school itself, would I have enough time to run downstairs and find cover from the falling debris, or would I be paralyzed with fear, giving my body to the explosive device?

And the last chilling thought I had before I went downstairs and started laughing with children: I wonder what a nuclear bomb would sound like if one was detonated in the center of downtown Minneapolis. Would I be burned along with downtown from my position? What does a shockwave travelling in my direction sound like?

At that, my alarm went off, and I hopped down to the second floor to deal with a kid who had been punching another kid in the nap room who was trying to sleep but was woken by this other child's incessant need to test others' pain thresholds and blame the kid's crying on nightmares.

Dealing with that stupid situation, another bomb vision popped into my mind's eye.

I need to get a new job.

S.T.U.N. -- "Boredom"