oh well.
What gives, shitty Monday? Huh? What's your problem, anyway?
So, who's crying right now? Who's frustrated with her parents' constant pressuring? Who's listening to Sufjan Stevens and deciding that it's best on rainy days? This girl.
But seriously, parents. You're making your daughter cry when you're not looking.
"Did Mom talk to you about the English presentation that's coming up?"
"Actually, Dad, Mrs. Gordon did. She's my teacher, see, and I'M in that class. NOT Mom. Yeah, sorry for the mix-up."
"Well, did she tell you how important it is to get that done?"
"Yeah. That's a good idea, huh. Actually, come to think of it, she didn't mention anything about 'important' or 'future.' In fact, I've never heard her say those words!"
Wull, that's what I would've said had I not run downstairs in tears with my only friend Laptop in tow when he turned around.
I want to punch a face. Just shut up, everyone. Please. I'm trying.
The only solace I find is playing piano for like 2 hours. I'm probably the weirdest person I know. I could play the same songs over and over forever if I really wanted. In fact, the only reason I stop playing "Parting Gift" is because I feel ridiculous, doing it 4 times in a row. Plus my throat gets scratchy. So I guess I could be using those 2 hours for something else...but I sort of need it.
I always sneak up to the piano when my parents are outside or running errands. Then they catch me and it becomes like a big drug bust.
"Sarah, what are you doing?!"
"MOM! Uhh I was just, um..it's not what you think! I was just sitting here, I swear!"
It's like crack. Or what I've read crack to be like.
I guess rehearsal is going ok. My favorite part isn't even being on stage, which doesn't bode well for any sort of career. No, I like sitting outside on the steps, smelling those trees with the little white flowers. You know the ones? We have cute streets in Valpo. The show opens May 26 and goes 'til June 10. I'd fancy people coming to see it.
First real NHS meeting today. I feel like it might be a lot of work. Mr. Hersheyburger seemed nice. Am I wrong in thinking this?
Mumsy's calling from upstairs. I do hope she wants to have a chat about my academic career.
Balls on you, world.
So, who's crying right now? Who's frustrated with her parents' constant pressuring? Who's listening to Sufjan Stevens and deciding that it's best on rainy days? This girl.
But seriously, parents. You're making your daughter cry when you're not looking.
"Did Mom talk to you about the English presentation that's coming up?"
"Actually, Dad, Mrs. Gordon did. She's my teacher, see, and I'M in that class. NOT Mom. Yeah, sorry for the mix-up."
"Well, did she tell you how important it is to get that done?"
"Yeah. That's a good idea, huh. Actually, come to think of it, she didn't mention anything about 'important' or 'future.' In fact, I've never heard her say those words!"
Wull, that's what I would've said had I not run downstairs in tears with my only friend Laptop in tow when he turned around.
I want to punch a face. Just shut up, everyone. Please. I'm trying.
The only solace I find is playing piano for like 2 hours. I'm probably the weirdest person I know. I could play the same songs over and over forever if I really wanted. In fact, the only reason I stop playing "Parting Gift" is because I feel ridiculous, doing it 4 times in a row. Plus my throat gets scratchy. So I guess I could be using those 2 hours for something else...but I sort of need it.
I always sneak up to the piano when my parents are outside or running errands. Then they catch me and it becomes like a big drug bust.
"Sarah, what are you doing?!"
"MOM! Uhh I was just, um..it's not what you think! I was just sitting here, I swear!"
It's like crack. Or what I've read crack to be like.
I guess rehearsal is going ok. My favorite part isn't even being on stage, which doesn't bode well for any sort of career. No, I like sitting outside on the steps, smelling those trees with the little white flowers. You know the ones? We have cute streets in Valpo. The show opens May 26 and goes 'til June 10. I'd fancy people coming to see it.
First real NHS meeting today. I feel like it might be a lot of work. Mr. Hersheyburger seemed nice. Am I wrong in thinking this?
Mumsy's calling from upstairs. I do hope she wants to have a chat about my academic career.
Balls on you, world.