I took the seat next to the power outlet on Tuesday in my religion class. The kid that usually sits there walked in, saw me, and he started to pout. And it was a serious pout. His hands were hanging down, and he raised them slightly just so he could throw them down in a huff. Really, kid? There are other power outlets. I'd hate to see him when someone does something actually bad to him, like takes the last cookie from mommy's cookie jar. What a hard life he must lead.
So, my new camera came in the mail yesterday. I've been waiting a couple years to be able to afford it, so it's kind of a big deal. I pulled it out of the box, then out of the mesh wrapping, then out of the bubble wrap. I set it on my lap and just stared. "It's mine," I thought. "All mine. I get to keep it." It was like I'd given birth to it or something. So, future kids, just imagine how much more I'll love YOU. I mean, if I reverence a camera like it's the Holy Grail, my kids are gonna suffocate with all the love I have for them.
Today I took a test. After studying for over an hour (which, p.s., is a big deal. Usually I study for about 20 minutes for tests and come away with a 90% or better). And guess what I got on said test? A 78%. You'd think I'd cry or at least be fuming with a fiery fury (you like that alliteration?). But no. I just stared, a blank stare actually. I couldn't quite process the number. Really? A 78? Really? I think there's been a mistake. Or I'll make you make a mistake ... that didn't make sense.