Call for help

It was just another sunny day, just like any other day, the beat of the alarm brings me back to life and I start getting ready because a have one big day ahead. It was my first week as a medical student, everything was perfect… until I step out of my house, Why? Because i didn’t have any idea of how to get from my house to the school, and of course that means I was in trouble. One day before I had to adventure myself out of my brand new castle, one of my roommates, Guess who… Had told me how to get to school from my house, it involves two busses, some walking and of course a lot of sun, three thing I don’t like. I actually made it safe to school, and have a regular introduction day, some teachers that don’t like the word teacher, because they are doctors, so they show us what to spect from the class, what should we do for the class and that Friday meant half a day. At the end I was pretty find, so I happilly walk to the buss stop, so I wait for like 15 minutes for the bus that supose to get me home.The buss arrives and I get in, it was a regular bus and by regular I mean uncomfortable sits, bad smells and bad music, but it was the closest thing to a magic pumking i could get, so whatever. The buss starts moving and I’m expecting to see something familiar soon, but that does not happend any time soon in fact it does not happend in that bus because I just realize that I took the wrong buss, instead of going home I was going in the exactly oposive direction so I panic of course, and what do we little girls do when we panic? Yes, we call our mothers, so I’m sitting on a not very clean seat in the middle of nowhere asking my mom what to do. At this point I was expecting that this coudn’t get worst… I was wrong. The buss driver stops the buss, bring out a pack of smokes and a lunch bag, and it starts smoking in the buss and eating his lunch, so yes, I panic a little more, if that’s even posible, so I make the next logical step I get off the creapy buss and ask my mom to tell me what to do. She’s all “calm down, honey, just ask someone where can you take the right buss”, but there wasn’t a living soul in sight, and I start walking arround looking for someone without hainging up the phone, after what it seems like an eternity I found a guy and I ask him where could I get the right buss, he points me where I could take the buss and I instantlly say thanks and rush over the buss stop, after the longest five minutes in my life, the buss arrived. Half an our later tire as hell and a bit grumpy I finally arrived home. Conclusion. Busses are not made for me.