Seeing as it's 10:13 p.m. and normally not past my bedtime, I'm not surprised that I'm still up, and no less that I'm blogging. While I prefer to be nocturnal, the public school distric and my grade in math speaks otherwise. With an early school schedule, and an even earlier tutoring session, my day begins roughly between 6:00 a.m. and 6:45 a.m. Back in the days when I showered and picked out my outfits in the morning, I was usually late to school, although I was happier to wake up to a sizzling shower. However, as the year progressed I realized that I was later and later to school, and my perfect tardy-streak was screaming at me. So I started picking out my week's outfits on Sunday [yes, I plan ALL of my outfits at least a day in advance], and showering in the evening to allow the maximum number of times I could smack my snooze button. I an NOT a morning person.
Unfortunately, I woke up to six feet of stinking snow on the ground. I was ticked. Not only was today the first day back from break, but there had to be SNOW! There was more snow than there was over break. Go figure. It snowed hand sized flakes all day, and piled up the roads like fluffy blankets of death. So ever since I got home I pulled on my fleece pj's, and slippers, which hasn't made turning on and off the lights the most enjoyable adventure. I figure if we don't get a snow day from school at least one day this week, our school district is being run by blood thirsty dictators that would yell "MARCH!" if they had the choice, and it wasn't associated with the freedom of spring break.
As I was waiting for my weekly dealing of eastern Witch Doctory, I was flaunting my amazing Spiderman backpack, to my seriously jealous Witch Doctor. The thing about chiropractor tables is that the cut out for your face is only about two inches wide, and they really expect you to fit your face through there and breath. Fat chance in the big apple. Sometimes I'm glad I'm not very claustrophibic. Not only that, but I finally got my Barbie notebook back from my Witch Doctor [no, I really don't know his name]. You see, the first time I went he asked for a food journal, so as a joke I wrote it in the girliest notebook I could find, which happened to be a super pink and little girlish Barbie notebook. Immediately when I produced it the next visit he looked at me with the "Are you serious?" look I get from a lot of people. Funny how that works. So really, the only logical explanation for his reaction would be that he was jelaous of my stationary selection, as well as my wallet, back pack, and all of my other character equpitment. That has to be it.
As long as I'm drowning in deNile, I suppose I should drag my sorry carcass off to bed, even at such a tender hour of the night. -Almost tears- Alas, I must bid a fond farewell, until we meet again! P.S. Great eye candy up top, no? Cheers.
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