Softspoken with a broken jaw, step outside but not to brawl
Well, it is finally Friday. It has been a rather strange week, and I'm not quite sure what I should think about it.
On one side, I haven't died yet. I had pizza yesterday, and nothing dibilitating has happened to the Centre. Nobody's started any wars, and there seems to be a dearth of deadly plagues (at least where about I appear to be).
However, I think I'm getting worse. Yesterday, I did my senior project for the Rotary Club here. One of the teachers at my school is on the board, and she asked me to do my presentation for the edification of the club, many of whom judge or may judge Senior Projects. I was, as a matter of certainty, unprepared. I got lost on the way there, and once presenting, I thought I did a terrible job. Nobody seemed to notice, though. So perhaps I'm just neurotic. I was, at the least, not the sole person to present: Donna presented after me.
The weekend should do me good. I need rest, and clear head. The latter might be difficult to acquire.