It's not too late

I am walking along the centre of the field next to my high school. I am carrying a book bag, a purse, and a camera bag. I am wearing a skirt with black stockings, white socks, and tennis shoes. My bags are getting quite heavy. The ground turns from solid ground with weeds to muddy until I come to a wide ravine that didn't used to exist there. I cross the ravine on a very narrow side and continue on; on the other side of the ravine the ground is covered in snow.

As I walk, the snow begins to cover the tops of my shoes, then my socks, and finally my stockings until I am knee deep in snow. I can't get clear of it and I can't seem to pick my feet up any longer. I am late for class. This is so typical of me: I've forgotten which class I am due in, where my locker is, even my locker combination. I am headed to the office to sort all that out. I'll probably go home after that and start fresh tomorrow.

As I am fighting my way through the snow and mud sucking at my feet a teacher comes charging up the path and marches by me. She looks over her shoulder and says to me, "you really need to suit up." I call after her, asking if she means literally or metaphorically and she spins around so she's facing me and marches backwards. "Both," she replies. "It's not too late for either."

I feel grateful for the advice, and it seems to confirm what I already know: I can pull this off. I will go to the office and get my shit together and go to all my classes. She turns herself around to continue her forward march and I can see that she is wearing a hospital gown and her bare ass is sticking out of the back of it.