Scramble, Scramble, Scramble

I was talking to one of my sophomore friends a couple days ago. He was anticipating the end of the school year when I was, well, not welcoming it quite yet.
"I have a lot to do before I am out of high school." I said.
He shrugged, "Well, only ten days left, right?"
"That's what I mean! Only ten days left!"

"Only ten days left." meant something completely different for each of us.

That's right, only ten days left. This was something I always dreamed about being an amazing time. The end of high school. So fun! Right. I did not imagine I'd be bustling as much as I am.

I'm not saying it's bad, God's getting me through with more than enough energy.

I'm fighting the urge to snuggle into my sheets an extra hour and a half and then lay out by the pool and sunburn.

Probably best I have school. God knows I don't need anymore freckles.

How come senioritis always happens during your senior year?

Babysitting quote:

A couple of days ago I was babysitting for a girl named Morgan and her friend. Both three year-olds. When Morgan's friend's dad came home I sat and hung out and talked for awhile.

Suddenly Morgan's friend starts to cry
Her Dad: Why are you crying?
The girl: Morgan put her blanket on my arm.
Her Dad: (taken aback) ...and that made you cry?
The girl: *bitterly* mmhmmm
Her Dad: Why?
The girl: I dunno. (still crying)
Her Dad: of course you dont, because youre a three year-oldlittle girl.
The girl stops crying


I have a couple more...
My uncle lurks on my blog and I quoted his son a couple times. I guess the son heard about it somehow. Because one day he said something funny and made me laugh, and afterwards said:

"Go put that on your blog"

Kinda scary from a 6 year-old


One more...


Sophie's Dad: Sophie, either apologize or go to time-out.
Sophie wimpers
Sophie's Dad: Okay, one more time do you want to apologize or go to time-out?
Sophie starts to cry. Morgan looks concerned for her friend.
Morgan: She wants to 'pologize!!!

The Deep Breath After the Plunge

After working for six weeks under an awful boss, being swamped with homework, recovering from being really sick, and trying to get through Holy Week without losing any body parts, I now, once again, have free time.

I was working 35 hours a week, going to the gym, babysitting, going to church and trying to get as much homework as I could done. I realize this doesn't sound like that much, but it made the 24 hours I am given in a day seem tiny. Plus, my boss started to treat me badly and put a lot of pressure on me to be perfect. Which, of course, I cannot do. I began to dread going to work. Which is wierd because I loved working with children.

I was also feeling quite a bit of pressure and apprehensiveness in regards to my upcoming graduation. As much as I wanted it to come and how excited I was that it was so close, the work that needed to be done in between seemed overwhelming. Plus, my weekdays weren't free and the time I had was usually taken by the mothers who I had promised to babysit for.

Finally, I cracked. My body had had enough. After four days of refusing to accept I was sick, I finally gave into the sleepiness and the pain on Lazurus Saturday. Because I had kept moving and moving while the sickness took root, it took me longer to recover. My nasty cold had moved into my bronchial chords, making them spasm and leaving me with shortness of breath. On Holy Monday, I could barely squeeze s few words out, I had no breath. Once the doctor gave me an inhaler, the tightness ceased.

By Pascha I had completely recovered, I have now finished working at my job, a couple of my big final assignments in school have been finished. I am settling into my, once again, comfy life.


And this is the first of many regular posts from now on.

Movie Quote of the Month!

Today's quotes are from Spanglish:


Deborah: Well, you've done it again, Mother! You've made me hate myself! One of the only things I can always count on!
Evelyn: Honey, lately your low self-esteem is just good common sense.

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John: DO this for me or I'll light my hair on fire and start punching myself in the face!
Co-Worker: What?
John: You're right, that was an unusual way for me to make myself understood.