Middle schoolers, shut up.
I honestly really don't care if they have 20,000Y in their wallets and if their parents are the CEO's of WeMakeMoreMoneyThanYou Inc. If I were the waitress, I'd serve them all a nice cup of Shut the Fuck Up.
I hear it's a good coffee. Wakes you right up.
But honestly. I still feel the weight of my shoulder bag cutting into my shoulder and trying to force me onto my stomach and lie there and cry. I can still feel that sensation. It was a very, very, painfully uncomfortable sensation that just had to follow me home after volleyball practice. I'm a freshman. I'm in ninth grade. I'm actually a very young freshman. Born June. So within my grade, still I'm considered young.
[Mostly that's a good thing.]
But the intimidation! Gods! It's so…
Freshmen in our school are not accepted by any of the older grades. Period. Just. It's just like that. Some people might be nice but that doesn't matter. They think you're just a small, inconsiderate, rude and unable little cockroach. And maybe that's true. But we're on the road to being … butterflies so they should just chill!
Don't they remember what it's like to be freshmeat?
Anyway. Today, my point is that I just came back from my first volleyball practice and it was hell. Seriously. My tweet just now was: Middle schoolers who think MS Volleyball is hard: Please shut up now, I really don't care who you are. HS Volleyball isn't hard. It is hell.
And it's true. It's so true, it hurts. Like my back.
And I got a cramp in the beginning of the session and no one bothered to help me with it. But that's okay, because earlier, I'd been dreading the practice so I told myself, "Ugh. You little prick. Man up! Now!"
So I was okay with the cramp. I'm just not okay with these aftereffects. They're pissing me off. -_- I'm in pain.
No, serious.
It's all because of that one-shouldered bag that the school gave us. And that humongous biology book that I had to carry by hand. And those shoes I asked my mom to buy me that just don't do well for more than eight hours plus volleyball. So yes. I am in pain.
I just hope I get used to it. I think I will. I complained about middle school volleyball, thought about quitting that but stayed and in the end, it wasn't that bad. I actually made a lot of friends. So that's the good part.
Oh, and the high schoolers weren't that bad to me. They were just.
Intimidating.
Yeah. That's scary enough for me. Jessie was nice. Jessie Smith. She was cool. She's … she's actually one of the nicest seniors out there. But but but! I'm done ranting. I want. My bath.
So I'll be back later. AFTER homework, of course. Can't procrastinate.
I hope I may have forgotten how to.
I hope.
I hear it's a good coffee. Wakes you right up.
But honestly. I still feel the weight of my shoulder bag cutting into my shoulder and trying to force me onto my stomach and lie there and cry. I can still feel that sensation. It was a very, very, painfully uncomfortable sensation that just had to follow me home after volleyball practice. I'm a freshman. I'm in ninth grade. I'm actually a very young freshman. Born June. So within my grade, still I'm considered young.
[Mostly that's a good thing.]
But the intimidation! Gods! It's so…
Freshmen in our school are not accepted by any of the older grades. Period. Just. It's just like that. Some people might be nice but that doesn't matter. They think you're just a small, inconsiderate, rude and unable little cockroach. And maybe that's true. But we're on the road to being … butterflies so they should just chill!
Don't they remember what it's like to be freshmeat?
Anyway. Today, my point is that I just came back from my first volleyball practice and it was hell. Seriously. My tweet just now was: Middle schoolers who think MS Volleyball is hard: Please shut up now, I really don't care who you are. HS Volleyball isn't hard. It is hell.
And it's true. It's so true, it hurts. Like my back.
And I got a cramp in the beginning of the session and no one bothered to help me with it. But that's okay, because earlier, I'd been dreading the practice so I told myself, "Ugh. You little prick. Man up! Now!"
So I was okay with the cramp. I'm just not okay with these aftereffects. They're pissing me off. -_- I'm in pain.
No, serious.
It's all because of that one-shouldered bag that the school gave us. And that humongous biology book that I had to carry by hand. And those shoes I asked my mom to buy me that just don't do well for more than eight hours plus volleyball. So yes. I am in pain.
I just hope I get used to it. I think I will. I complained about middle school volleyball, thought about quitting that but stayed and in the end, it wasn't that bad. I actually made a lot of friends. So that's the good part.
Oh, and the high schoolers weren't that bad to me. They were just.
Intimidating.
Yeah. That's scary enough for me. Jessie was nice. Jessie Smith. She was cool. She's … she's actually one of the nicest seniors out there. But but but! I'm done ranting. I want. My bath.
So I'll be back later. AFTER homework, of course. Can't procrastinate.
I hope I may have forgotten how to.
I hope.