Coach (cheerful): no, you've got one more lap!
Internal fuming.
AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH I WILL NOT GET A BAD GRAAAAAADEEE
PAAAAAAAIIIIN
And I beat my time by a full minute.
And my thighs have yet to stop hurting.
Moral of the story: getting good grades is a form of masochism.
Funny story. I had to take one last PE credit so I could graduate, cause you need PE credits to graduate at my school. So. I walk into class, and guess what we're doing?
The mile run.
Me, internally: I have a cold. My back hurts. I hate running. I'm just going to walk I think
Me: go fast go fast can't fail go fast AHHH IT'S ALREADY BEEN TWO MINUTES faster faster crap I cant feel my legs why am I doing this to my-THAT PERSON JUST PASSED ME OH CRAP I'M GOING TO *FAIL* FASTER I'M DYING GO FASTER EVERYTHING HURTS
I'M DONE RIGHT I'M DONE I BEAT MY RECORD-
The little voice of reason in my head is telling me to apply for college. Cause I need to apply for college. But I just can't stop...going on adventures? Making music? Having an interesting conversation? No. Using my phone. This is so stupid. #burnout
@VidCon Come to Idaho. I don't have to specify any particular area in Idaho because the entire population of Idaho might be enough to constitute a city.
I wrote a story when I was in the third grade. It was a space adventure starring a self insert who stumbled upon a secret spaceport. The villain, a tentacled dog humanoid, was in the business of Evil. The space ship was faster than light. Needless to say, I'm still proud of it.
After working at a mall for a few months, I have exactly one question. Does the top 40 playlist ever stop? I've gotten out hours after closing time, but the music has always been going. Does it just keep playing all night? CAN it turn off? It's just incredibly weird
@twentyonepilots I listened to it. It was like the taste of soda on a road trip in june, finishing a really good book at three in the morning, a longing for home but you don't know exactly what home is, and the excitement of seeing a rainbow, all wrapped into one.
Thank you.
Me: I have so many essays to write I can't even start
8-year-old sis: Do the easiest ones first.
Me:...and those are due the soonest anyway...
8-year-old sis: Then do them.
How is a third-grader better at this than I am