Recently I discovered my journal from last year, and I've been dying to share a few of the entries I wrote. Just so you know, this journal was kept for a composition class assignment... because I don't really have patience for pencils and paper and such these days. Keyboards and insane typing speeds is where it's at.
Anyway, I found an entry from the same exact day last year, so I figured what better time would there be to post it? So yeah... here it is.
"This Thanksgiving, I am most thankful for having three days off of school. Weekends alone are too packed full of work to be able to make up sleep, and sleep is what I need most right now. I plan on using this time to sleep, eat, and study for the SAT. I also plan on finishing some books, writing, and learning how to play Black Ops on the X-Box. Without days off I wouldn't be able to do that, but rather be stuck sitting in class pretending to be awake. Luckily I've mastered sleeping with my eyes open, though, for the days when I don't have school off.
Something I could do without would be the loads of homework I've been given. It seems many teachers don't seem to understand that they aren't allowed to teach for these days, and so in frustration they give extra work and packets to make sure we devote time to them anyway. It does give me something to do on Sunday night, though- plates full of paper, bowls of pencils, and a large backpack, stuffed with delicious time-consuming formulas and essays. An excellent recipe for a grade giving holiday."
I actually drew this on my journal. No lie.
So... looking back at that Thanksgiving entry... I can't say much has changed aside from me no longer worrying about the SAT. My teachers have given me pretty much the same workload this year, if not more, and I could use about seven days worth of sleep right now. It's a little disheartening how little life actually changes from year to year.
You know I'm beautiful when I'm sleep.
What didn't go exactly as planned was everything I'd wanted to do... of course. Well... okay that's a lie. I relaxed, and read, and wrote... but I didn't learn how to play Black Ops. It's my brother's game, and so he gave me the controller for a total three and a half seconds before I died and he told me I was horrible and should go do something I wouldn't suck at.
Being a stereotypical woman. Sue me.
Story of my life.