Monday Morning
In the morning I know I need to shave. I also know that if I hit my snooze more than three times I will not be making it to my first class. Not only did I not shave, I didn't go to class and I discovered that time slips by exceptionally slow during Monday morning. Sometimes I am glad there is no one next to me when I wake up, it would just complicate things. I don't think Awesome would understand. She is always there by my head when I wake up. If there were two heads, one of which smelled nicer and had longer hair, Awesome would be confused by this. Hell, I would be confused by it. I used to be that guy that knew how it felt to wake up next to a girl and just smile. Now, I'm the guy that gets up in the middle of night shaking his head, looking at her, and pulling up his pants. Growing up sucks. If I could have one wish it would be to be a kid again with the knowledge I have now, so I could milk my childhood for all it's worth. I suppose that would be self-defeating though because if you have all that knowledge it isn't really possible to be innocent. Plus, if I was a child again, by the time I reached my current age (19) I would be different than who I am, obviously. I want to pretend that being me is a brave, tragic novel, but it's not. My life is good. Why would I want to pretend that? Kids who have never even seen a computer will never read this and say:
Of course he has a good life, he's bitching to people in a forum where everyone has a good life!
None of us are tragically flawed beyond repair. Not a single person I have ever met has been so battered, so scared that they cannot get up in the morning. I got up this morning, looked in the mirror, thought about shaving and remembered that the only reason I would shave is to go to class. No shaving equals no class, which equals this entry. A complex formula I discovered, ironically while not in 10:40 Math class. Now my backpack is leering at me, telling me to put him on and head out the door for another eventful day at college. Life is good today, let's go backpack.
Of course he has a good life, he's bitching to people in a forum where everyone has a good life!
None of us are tragically flawed beyond repair. Not a single person I have ever met has been so battered, so scared that they cannot get up in the morning. I got up this morning, looked in the mirror, thought about shaving and remembered that the only reason I would shave is to go to class. No shaving equals no class, which equals this entry. A complex formula I discovered, ironically while not in 10:40 Math class. Now my backpack is leering at me, telling me to put him on and head out the door for another eventful day at college. Life is good today, let's go backpack.