is there a word for this? (add-oh-less-sense)

we didn’t have lockers at hawken in 4th grade so i rode the bus with my dad’s third-best briefcase and in the fall when the ten-mile flocks of dipping finches and sparrows and orioles all high and safe above our house going southeast to canada after crossing lake erie the bus tires screech and the yellow but not really orange i guess door opens and sucks me in.

up three stairs but the worst thing i can do is trip. or my briefcase pops open and mechanical pencils and flairs sputter out and drift under the dirty keds of the public school kids. cause they are looking at me look down and sort of sideways and all i want is an open seat to slide across and then watch the playground of my house disappear against foggy windows sealed shut.

but most days i just have to just stand.