Today is a horrible a day. And so I demonstrate.
Today was rare and undercooked, causing great distress to my world-digestive system.
The day started off with Calculus with Dr. Ward. He's a brilliant teacher - it took me five minutes to realise that what he taught was the same thing that the book taught. And I'm still trying (though not very hard) to make the connection between the lesson and the actual book.
Then came Lit, and then came History. I had greater hopes for the Treaty of Versailles Conference, yes, but it was alright, I suppose. I thought that people would have higher skills in arguing - stubbornly presenting a point, and completely missing the directed question, are not the sort of actions that I thought my classmates would make. They didn't even bother to play up the strengths of their arguments, in many cases. I do not know how I did...rather redundantly, I suppose.
Then I had lunch, and then came the class after math in which I realised that the lid of my lunchbox was missing. Coops threw it into the garbage can outside the office; I found it by holding up the garbage bag and feeling around the sides.
Then we had a Reach practice, where I reacted too slow for the questions that I knew, and too fast for the questions that I didn't.
Things happen too fast in Transition. No, not that. I'm not used to living life at any speed, at all. And now I have a life. And now I'm suffering from shock. I'm actually just really tired, and procrastinating from my lit homework.
It's been so long since I expressed any thought-out opinion. I'm tired. I'm always tired lately. Not sleepy, not physically tired, but tired. I always get this strange image of a stretched out tire when I see the word "tired" - it's always swinging in the breeze, set against a flat metallic grey sky.
Anyway, I'm tired of whining about how boring/depressing/tedious my life is, so I'll do something amusing every day. My amusing act of today shall be...
Oh, I don't know. I'll just make my Lit essay amusing. I mean, it's about the death of Anglo-Saxon values due to the death of Beowulf. Of course it'll be easy to write about. Maybe I'll start making this journal private so I can write just like Holden - always on tangents, not ever taking particular care that the other person understands me, and completely honest.
Maybe I'll get myself something every day. I like the excitement of having stationary wrapped up in plastic; infinite possibilities present themselves to me as I think about how I'd mutilate my new tools, but I never do. I like new notebooks, but they're a bit intimidating compared with mere note paper.
What the hell am I doing? I have a lit essay due tomorrow, which is only 350 words, and here I am, typing about notebooks. It's sort of like a weird wake up call to myself; I'm so dull that I can't even be bothered to talk of something interesting, like how the Mexican minister died in a plane crash (which I just fuond out by reading the "Latest Headlines" presented by firefox), or even movies. Look up the trailer of "Little Manhattan". It'll be bittersweet.
I can do it [the essay] in ten minutes --and what I write might actually be more or less coherent.
I want to stretch my legs, and reach for the skies with the dandelion puffs. Unfortunately, I don't blow away in the breeze. Or maybe it's fortunate.
The day started off with Calculus with Dr. Ward. He's a brilliant teacher - it took me five minutes to realise that what he taught was the same thing that the book taught. And I'm still trying (though not very hard) to make the connection between the lesson and the actual book.
Then came Lit, and then came History. I had greater hopes for the Treaty of Versailles Conference, yes, but it was alright, I suppose. I thought that people would have higher skills in arguing - stubbornly presenting a point, and completely missing the directed question, are not the sort of actions that I thought my classmates would make. They didn't even bother to play up the strengths of their arguments, in many cases. I do not know how I did...rather redundantly, I suppose.
Then I had lunch, and then came the class after math in which I realised that the lid of my lunchbox was missing. Coops threw it into the garbage can outside the office; I found it by holding up the garbage bag and feeling around the sides.
Then we had a Reach practice, where I reacted too slow for the questions that I knew, and too fast for the questions that I didn't.
Things happen too fast in Transition. No, not that. I'm not used to living life at any speed, at all. And now I have a life. And now I'm suffering from shock. I'm actually just really tired, and procrastinating from my lit homework.
It's been so long since I expressed any thought-out opinion. I'm tired. I'm always tired lately. Not sleepy, not physically tired, but tired. I always get this strange image of a stretched out tire when I see the word "tired" - it's always swinging in the breeze, set against a flat metallic grey sky.
Anyway, I'm tired of whining about how boring/depressing/tedious my life is, so I'll do something amusing every day. My amusing act of today shall be...
Oh, I don't know. I'll just make my Lit essay amusing. I mean, it's about the death of Anglo-Saxon values due to the death of Beowulf. Of course it'll be easy to write about. Maybe I'll start making this journal private so I can write just like Holden - always on tangents, not ever taking particular care that the other person understands me, and completely honest.
Maybe I'll get myself something every day. I like the excitement of having stationary wrapped up in plastic; infinite possibilities present themselves to me as I think about how I'd mutilate my new tools, but I never do. I like new notebooks, but they're a bit intimidating compared with mere note paper.
What the hell am I doing? I have a lit essay due tomorrow, which is only 350 words, and here I am, typing about notebooks. It's sort of like a weird wake up call to myself; I'm so dull that I can't even be bothered to talk of something interesting, like how the Mexican minister died in a plane crash (which I just fuond out by reading the "Latest Headlines" presented by firefox), or even movies. Look up the trailer of "Little Manhattan". It'll be bittersweet.
I can do it [the essay] in ten minutes --and what I write might actually be more or less coherent.
I want to stretch my legs, and reach for the skies with the dandelion puffs. Unfortunately, I don't blow away in the breeze. Or maybe it's fortunate.