Understand this, my aunt died in October. I haven't cried since her funeral. I missed several days of school because of it. I had to complete 10 tests in a period of 3 days total. I've been overdue for the stress to bubble forth in a horrible display of emotions. And it did.
Because we ended up not using my design on the T-shirts.
Not because it wasn't good, but because my teacher, his librarian wife, their daughter, and their son, apparently do not know how to crop an image. I sent the completed file to him on Sunday Night, he had requested that it be done by then. We didn't start doing the Iron Ons [Yes, iron ons, we're cheap] until today. Because he couldn't get it to be the right size [by cropping it] they decided not to use it. Now, you think that either A, in the time it took [2 days] they could have figured out to ask me how to crop an image?Or B, that during the couple of hours that passed between when they realized it wouldn't print right and when we ironed stuff that they could have contacted me and asked? Or C, that when I spent my lunch period cropping the photo, and offering to get more fabric paper that they could have agreed? Or maybe D, that they could have emailed me last night, or called my house phone, or contacted me on FB, SOMETHING, once they realized everything.
But no, they didn't.
You have to understand that my stuff is never chosen for anything. I'm the dumpy ugly girl in the back who's quiet, they always pick the happy outgoing people simply because they know them the best. But not this time, I volunteered and created it. I spent my entire weekend working on it, I gave up my precious time to do it, I missed my friends sleepover birthday party to work on it. I sacrificed a lot to work on this thing, because it meant that much to me. It really did.
And they just dismissed it all. Like it was nothing.
So in Latin Club, I was upset, my face was flushed and my eyes were watery and all that stuff. And guess what, Sarah Keith, my supposed friend didn't ask what was wrong, nor did my other supposed friend Megan Wells. The one who asked me if I was okay was Taylor Locks, the president of our Latin club, whom I don't know very well. When your friends don't even notice stuff like that, you feel even less appreciated than if, oh, say, your design had been rejected for no other reason than teacher incompetency.
I haven't been outright sobbing, but I've been angry and disappointed and tears trickling down my face and my voice breaking and all that shit.
And now I have to study for two tests and do one project.