"Life is short...Stay awake for it."
~ Caribou Coffee Bar Slogan
I had the most difficult time waking up this morning. P gave the usual wake up call at around...who knows when. I just told her something or other and plopped back down again. It's terrible to have begun each day of my life since sophomore year saying "Shit! What time is it?". Never begin your day with the word shit, it's not good for you. My mother then called at around ten-something, asking if I went to see Mr. Barksdale, who she insists on calling Mr. Boxdale, emphasis on the OXX (I haven't had the patience yet to correct her). I then preceded to get buffed for not getting up in time by both my mother AND father. Usually I just take the buff and shut up. Not today for some reason. How does repeatedly telling me that I should've gotten up earlier change the fact that I didn't? My children are going to love me.
I decided I wasn't going to any of my classes; I'm not in them anyway, so why should I be held responsible for attending? I didn't care. I know I should, leave me alone. Anyway, I had a nice hot then cold shower, washed my hair and blow-dried it. As I've realised recently - it's all about the hair. Next to shoes of course.
