Sunday night. I’m in bed with my laptop burning the skin off my legs and a cup of tea burning the skin off my hands. Yet my weekend was so glorious that I am actually content with these possibly crippling injuries. I haven’t done anything of monetary value, but I feel like I got a lot accomplished. Maybe that’s because I’m used to doing nothing. Let’s go back in time.
Friday. It’s too long ago for me to remember. I do recall taking a nap, though.
Saturday. It’s the day reserved for restoring my lost sleep of the week, so I usually stay in bed for a minimum of 15 hours. When I wake up, I spend the day moping around in my room, pretending to do homework and eating my weight in Cinnamon Toast Crunch. This Saturday, however, I woke up at an astonishing 9 AM to go to IHOP. I’d never been there before, so it was quite a life changing experience. My friend and I were the only ones who weren’t 60-years-old. I don’t think I’ve ever seen so many hungry old people in one place. Got a stack of cinnamon-infested pancakes. Drove to the amiga’s house. Spent an hour prank calling and watched Pineapple Express. All of my teenage wished have been fulfilled, and it’s only 1 PM. Drove back to my house. Picked up the baby sister. Went on a hike. Collected air soft gun pellets. Climbed trees. Nearly died on some train tracks. Came back home. Looked up things on the Internet. 2 hours later. Went skating with the family. Maghrib at the masjid. Fried ice cream. Went to sleep as a fatty.
Sunday. This was my first Sunday without homework, and I didn’t waste a second to enjoy my temporary freedom. Woke up to a bowl of Cinnamon Toast Crunch. Colored with my kids at Sunday School. Came home. Looked up things on the Internet. Here I am now. The end.
This has been a completely pointless post.
This has been a completely pointless post.
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