Snow was heaped past my knees on the curbs of the streets. The cold air stung the revealed skin on my face. The bus was running late again. I looked in the distance of highway 7. Cars were streaming past me causing the wind to become more violent. Finally I saw hope of warmth. I saw the large green and white bus pull into sight. It drove closer and closer. My antisipation was rising. The bus was only a few feet away. It wasn't slowing down. I could see faces beside faces in the large window of the bus. The bus was full of students. Their large backpacks took up so much room on their backside the bus was too croweded to stop for me. I stand with disappointment. Sould I walk back home? I think to myself. The walk home is twenty minutes. To drive to school would cost a fortune because I would have to pay the ridiculas parking expense. I decide I must wait thirty minutes for the next bus to arrive. I know I'll be late for class. I know the anxiety of walking into class late will tortune me. Maybe I could skip my first class of the day. I do enjoy studying on my own. The thought leaves my mind as quickly as it enters. My attendance is important to me. I must have patience, I must wait.