My wild thoughts have lost coherence (not that they were coherent at any point of time), and therefore, I have put it upon myself to spend this snow day collecting my thoughts and organizing them. I might alphabetize and colorcode them later. I think we got about five feet of snow in Indiana. My ruler says we got one and a half, but since when are rulers ever accurate? They're about as reliable as weathermen. And when are weathermen reliable? Never. I haven't had school in the past two days, and that is every teenager's dream come true. And now that I've finished my stress inducing college application, I can finally carry on with a normal life. I doubt that my eating and sleeping patterns will ever be the same again, but that's mostly due to the fact that I have internet connection.
Although I've slept in until noon for the past two days, I've still managed to be productive. I cleaned my room, cleaned the bathroom, made some broccoli pasta stuff, baked some awesome banana bread, got some extra points in the "womanly abilities" category, finally watched The Social Network (I don't know if I liked it or not), and managed to work a snow blower. My dad, who started his new job in Michigan, was worried that my mom, my sisters, and I would be incapable of taking care of ourselves during the snowpocalypse and would most probably freeze to death. He decided to send me an e-mail on how to work the snow blower so that we could get out of the house and find appropriate shelter (as if our house doesn't have everything we need to survive). In an attempt to put the instructions in terms that I could understand, he described the parts of the snow blower rather than blatanly using the parts' names. So he called the red button the "big, round pushy thing," and the lever was the "black slidy thing." My parents have so much faith in me.
I think it's taken me about half an hour to write this whole thing. I am convinced that I have ADD. My attention span is no longer than 15 seconds. I need to work on that. Also, I heard that people who are having strokes often smell burning toast. Ever since I heard that, whenever I make toast, I think I'm having a stroke because I am incapable of making toast without burning it. I've lost control of my life.
