It's NOT Monday.

Today didn't start out too well (as in zit-under-nose-and-wore-wrong-skirt-to-school kind of not-well) but it certainly improved as the day went on.

First period Francais was intimidating, especially when she handed out that list of Approved Francophone Authors and told us to choisis un livre par mardi prochain. Gym was not as bad as it could have been, and Alicia did have that great line about football positions sounding a lot like sex positions. Oh, and I kicked the football. Sort of. Whatever I had after...oh right, it was Bio. Well, that film was completely lost on me, although I do remember thinking that the music could have been improved on.

I think that the bell went off during every class today. Well, no. Computers finished before the bell. Anyway.

Getting to English was the most fun I've had in a long time. That huge backup at the west wing doorway must be pretty close to unprecedented. It was the greatest -- hey look there's Jocelyne! And there goes Kaj...I'm missing my English test! Hey, who was that trampled over there? Oh well....

Yeah, I know mine is a sad, sorry existence. Moving on. You should all join Photography.

I actually finished the English test fifteen minutes before the end of the class, which is definetly unprecedented. Lunch was very fun, even though everyone left us alone, and then I had double Kelsey. Math was far more intimidating than Francais and computers was excellent, especially when Shotty apologized to Kelsey.

Oh, and Kelsey? I told you Knitting Guy existed! I knew he existed! I BELIEVED in him....

Hmm. The leadership meeting after school put me in a good mood. Apparently the four of us are going to be taking over from Shannon & Asma & co, which makes me feel more important than I am. Then we got slushes, and I spent an hour trying to get Kelsey home, spending money on Kelsey, and listening to Kelsey talk. It was great.

To completely change the subject, I have a strange tendency to think a lot about goodbyes. Every time I say goodbye to someone, or goodnight, or even go upstairs and leave them for two minutes, I think, What if they never saw me again, and that was the last thing I ever said to them? What if those were my last words? Usually they end up being pretty stupid last words, and I decide that I can't possibly be about to die because those are pretty stupid last words.

But if I ever make an overly dramatic exit, you should have a pretty good idea of what I'm thinking. (And no, I don't have a pretty good idea what I was thinking when I decided to tell you this.)

Now I leave, knowing that I have stacks of unfinished homework and unwashed laundry. *makes overly dramatic exit*

Here's to unboringness!