When the morning comes

When the morning comes

I have no school spirit.  Not that I'm complaining though.  I think I'm better off this way.  I'll be more prepared for the real world.  That's positive thinking, though.  I might just end up as a bookworm-turned-spinster who looks back on her high school experience and wonders why she didn't go to more football games.

Oh yeah, that's right.  I hate football games.  And basketball games, and dances and pep assemblies and school sweatshirts.

I don't know why I'm thinking about this right now.  Probably because of asb elections - oh yeah, I hate those too.  I'm such a spoil-sport.  I'm that kid that always follows the rules and tattles on everyone for running on the playground.  Or something.  I was never much of a playground kid, anyway.  I was the one with the Harry Potter book sitting under the tree.

It's also occurred to me that inconsistency really bothers me.  And I have trouble with people that aren't bothered by inconsistency, or messy rooms, or bones in their chicken.  But I know that my way isn't the only way.  I guess everyone thinks like that - my way or the highway, eh?

I think I've reached my nonsensical quota for today.  One week til France!