In which I rant

So I'm sitting on the couch, with my laptop. The TV is off because I'm not supposed to watch until I finish my homework, which I (obviously) haven't done yet. The couch is green. My brother is home from basketball practice and he's sitting on the other couch which is orange but he's so sweaty that I don't think I'll ever sit on that couch again. It's a shame, really. I like that couch. I'm supposed to be writing an essay about the wave-particle duality of light for school. It's supposed to be fifteen hundred words, out of which I've written nine hundred and sixty seven. The last sentence that I wrote is incomplete because I discovered Blogger and I felt obligated to post after my long absence.

And now I'm sitting on my bed. Almost a half-hour later because my mother found out what I was up to and I had to go back and work on the essay. My comforter has green flowers that are a bit distracting and sometimes make me dizzy. So do concentric circles. Comforter is a funny word. It does its job, I guess, because it is a bit comforting after you've had an awful dinner at a rubbish restaurant. Speaking of which, yesterday I had an awful dinner at a rubbish restaurant.

Today I woke up to water on my face. My father had just washed his hands and of course he had to wake me up just that instant. Sometimes I wake up to the sound of The Beatles because my mother likes to play music in the morning. But more often than not, I'll wake up to the sound of her yelling at me because apparently I already woke up but told her I was going to sleep for another five minutes. Except those five minutes usually turn into thirty minutes and I end up waking at seven thirty, which is late considering school starts at eight.

You could call me a procrastinator, of course. It's Sunday morning and I haven't started my homework. We're going out for lunch at noon and we won't be back until after dinner. So it would be a sensible thing to do my homework before we leave but then again, there's always Monday morning. And while we're talking about mornings, let's talk about Saturday mornings, shall we? Saturday is the worst day of the week. School gets over on Friday and Saturday morning is all no school for two days, yay! So I end up doing something fun. And then at around three o'clock, the truth hits. There is swimming class. Two hours of swimming back and forth when it's a wonderful Saturday and there's oh so much fun stuff that I could have been doing. And to top it all off my mother goes shopping and my friends hang out while I'm stuck at swimming. Three days a week, four to six. Torture.

My word count for the essay is ranging around one thousand and fifty. It's amazing how little I get done when there's something better to do. Right now, that would be blogging. It's not like I enjoy blogging. It's more like a little nook that I can escape to when I have an essay to write and a poster to draw and a project on drugs. Biology is a complete waste of time. Now, I know a fair share of people who would disagree and say something about how I'm going to need it later on in life and then say that math is the actual waste of time because when are you ever going to use any of the trig functions in real life. Well, at least math is interesting. Biology is one of those subjects that sends you straight to sleep. The most interesting chapter in my Biology textbook is probably the one about the brain. That's the only reason I've been staying awake in class for the past week.

Exams are coming up soon and I really should start studying but I can bring myself to actually do it. The stress hasn't set in yet. I'm like 'oh, there's a whole two months left', but there are almost ten chapters in each of the eight subjects. So there's about eighty chapters that I have to study if I want to have the slightest chance of getting good grades.

And now my father's banging on my bedroom door telling me to get out of the shower (which is what I should be doing right now, really) so I'd better go.