There's a certain speed at which one walks when trying to get home. You walk a little faster. Maybe because you're trying to avoid people. Maybe you're trying to not have people realize you're going home by yourself because no one lives in your direction. Maybe you're bed is just so comfy you can't wait to return to it's welcoming, sheet-arms. That's usually my reason. My other reason is when I'm wearing an outfit I don't feel 100-percent in because OH NO, MY MIDRIFF IS SHOWING AND I DON'T HAVE A SIX-PACK so I wanted to get home as soon as possible to get away from meanies. And it was interesting because the girls didn't care. It was the boys that were all snarky. And it felt really mean because they were just calling me out because, sorry I don't look like your dream girl or the girlfriend you have who has a goddess body from jogging the second the weather is over 40 degrees. There's nothing wrong with being that kind of girl. There's something wrong with being openly mean to a girl who isn't/ I don't complain about my figure and I just want to be happy. And sure, I am guilty of thinking and expressing to be near me of critiquing a girl's outfit that isn't quite one hundred percent for her. But I won't call her out on it because I don't know her. Or maybe it's confidence booster for her. Because you never know how someone is feeling unless you've been there. So to the jerk on the street, thank you for making me want to crawl up in sweatpants and do pushups and situps all day. I definitely can do more than you anyway and you're going to make me strongly, so screw you.