I'm livin' for the weekend
I am convinced that an entire pack of butterflies has moved into my stomach. Well, whatever a group of butterflies is called. School starts tomorrow, and I have no clue why I'm nervous. It's like I'm a freshman all over again or something. Maybe it's because I'm going to the career oriented school here for three of my classes, which is like the equivalent of college. Eck. I wanted to go when I signed up for it last March. I still look forward to the classes there. But I kind of regret not just staying at my school all day like I've done for the past two years.
There will be kids from all over the county there. I don't think anyone I know is in my classes. The teachers seem nice, but I'm freaking out about the scheduling. In the span of one day I will endure four bus rides. I have six classes, only one of which is not honors or AP. I have to have good grades this year. My junior research paper is due in...May? May, yes. I was born in May. Happy Birthday to me. I will be seventeen then. Scary thought. In a year I have to deal with colleges. Sometime this year I have to take the SAT and probably get an idea of what colleges I like. In less than two years I have to go off to one of those colleges and start preparing to make my way in the world. I am going to die. Metaphorically, I mean, but maybe literally as well. I hope not. Knock on wood.
Maybe I should just not think about it. I'm almost positive I'll be fine, but I'm a pessimist and a worrier, I guess. The Weekenders is calming me, so. I knew I loved this show as a (younger) kid for a reason. I'm going to watch it now.
Adieu.
There will be kids from all over the county there. I don't think anyone I know is in my classes. The teachers seem nice, but I'm freaking out about the scheduling. In the span of one day I will endure four bus rides. I have six classes, only one of which is not honors or AP. I have to have good grades this year. My junior research paper is due in...May? May, yes. I was born in May. Happy Birthday to me. I will be seventeen then. Scary thought. In a year I have to deal with colleges. Sometime this year I have to take the SAT and probably get an idea of what colleges I like. In less than two years I have to go off to one of those colleges and start preparing to make my way in the world. I am going to die. Metaphorically, I mean, but maybe literally as well. I hope not. Knock on wood.
Maybe I should just not think about it. I'm almost positive I'll be fine, but I'm a pessimist and a worrier, I guess. The Weekenders is calming me, so. I knew I loved this show as a (younger) kid for a reason. I'm going to watch it now.
Adieu.