Normally I would be heaving a sigh of relief out of my lungs with the completion of another week of school successfully under my belt, but I’m living in pool of dread. Because, come Monday, I’m back to the daily grind. My brief respite is almost over.
On Wednesday, I traveled to Katie’s house. I drove partway there, finally getting a taste of what it’s like to be behind the wheel of a car (did I mention that we finally got me my permit? It was a battle, I assure you). We toured her farm, made cookies that resembled pancakes and then ate them like they were (forks and melted milk chocolate “syrup”). Katie had accidentally melted the butter for the cookies completely, so we popped popcorn and dipped individual kernels into a deliciously golden pool of oil.
Up in her room, it was like we were five years old again. We paraded around in dresses and danced in front of the mirror to “She Wolf” and “Outside My Window.” I let my maturity go for a couple hours and found it could be fun to let it slip sometimes.
That night, I returned home and finished The Hunger Games; staying up until well past two AM in the process. All together, it proved to be a wildly successful day.
And, now, I’m in that mood where nothing I write seems to matter, no matter what it is I’m writing about. I’m going to leave this entry at that. Nobody reading this cares about what’s going on my life; they’re too busy worrying about their own. I just came to that realization.
I’m sorry for wasting your time.