I didn't realize how short I was until I started school. There, a few kids picked on me, calling me names. Then I knew. After that, I began to hate the first day of school each year. I didn't know who was new and would stare at me as I struggled to climb the school bus stairs. Some of the kids would point and say, "Look at that kid. Look at her." As time went on, I just tried to smile and accept the fact that I was going to be noticed my whole life. I was determined to make my uniqueness an advantage rather than a disadvantage. My friends became increasingly protective. They'd help me up the bus steps. If people were cruel, they would take them aside and correct them. What I lacked in height, I made up for in personality----my ability to laugh, even at myself. For example, one time I was reaching into the washing machine at my parents' house to grab the wet clothes. I fell all the way in and yell for Mother, who was sitting nearby reading the paper. Watching feet flying everywhere, she laughed quietly and said, "I should leave you in there." I laughed with her. I'm 47 now, and _ as I've grown older. People ask my friends if I live in a dollhouse. They look in disbelief when they see me get out of my car on the driver's side. During those times, I try to keep a good attitude. When people are rude, I remind myself, "Look what else I have----a great family, nice friends..." How is the author feeling now about her situation?
Quite optimistic. Very satisfied. Deeply upset. Rather anxious.