It is a sad, sad day when you realize your teacher got mixed up on the syllabus, and that you actually get back to school on Monday instead of Wednesday, and hysterically call all of your friends asking is this true/some kind of sick joke, then die inside. That was yesterday for me. [Insert angsty annoying preteen variations of "it sucked" here]
So today I went to the library and did my entire book report that is due tomorrow. When I say entire I mean ENTIRE (luckily the book was fairly short and went by fast). I fell out of my chair an embarrassing amount of times since I kept tripping over my cape but then comforted myself by getting a pretzel and chocolate milk and reading outside whilst jealously observing a hobo's dreads. Party animal.
I also tried to grasp every last bit of winter break I could-sitting by the Jul tree, listening to Christmas With the Rat Pack an absurd BUT NOT SAD AND/OR PATHETIC amount of times, eating holiday cookies and playing in what's left of the snow (which, as you can see here, there is very little of). There's something sentimental about this time of year which I'm not ready to give up just to go back to condescending teachers, petty drama, ridiculous expectations, self-absorbed students, alarm clocks, B.O., disgusting and nausea-causing amounts of Axe, and really smelly Messy Josephs (BAM, totez just described middle school in one, huge, run-on sentence. I could take the easy way out and use one word-Hell, if you were wondering-but this is more fun.)