A Typical Day

5:30 a.m: My iPhone alarm “Piano Riff” blasts its way into my dreams.

5:31 a.m: I blindly bat at my nightstand in an attempt to make the reality of waking up at 5:31 a.m. go away.

5:32 a.m: My iPhone alarm “Opening” tries a different approach at awakening me from my slumber.

5:33 a.m: I successfully turn my alarms off, half awake with my eyes closed, thanks to my numerous years of practice avoiding real life.

6:24 a.m: My dad stomps into my room on his way to feed the family cat and asks me if I’m planning on attending school today.

6:33 a.m: I roll out of bed in a state of panic because I was planning on waking up early to do my zero hour AP US History homework.

6:35 a.m: I run into my bathroom and shift my focus away from founding fathers and their personal convictions about the Constitution, to my face and its “just got ran over by a train” appearance.

6:37 a.m: After lathering my face in concealer, I begin to get dressed, and I realize I’m not comfortable enough with my butt to wear the leggings I’d laid out the night before, so I throw on a semi-dirty pair of jeans…again.

6:40 a.m: My dad yells that he won’t take me to school if I don’t hurry up, and I regret not having my own transportation.

6:41 a.m: As I grab an entire package of white cheddar rice cakes out of the pantry as substitute for the lunch I forgot to put together, my mom makes a casual remark about how I should have done something with my hair, but then she quickly says it looks fine after I start to head downstairs to throw it in a bun, so I just don’t do anything with it.

6:50 a.m: My dad drops me off at the front of the school, and I time my entry perfectly so no one will see me and notice that I am the only junior whose parents still take them to school.

7 a.m: I walk into class seconds after the bell resonates through the hallways and pray to god that my teacher doesn’t collect the homework I didn’t do.

7:15 a.m: I BS my way through the class discussion, and my teacher is “very impressed” with my “knowledge” about anti federalists.

8 a.m: I go to Karen Campbell‘s locker, and we cry because the Jonas brothers cancelled their tour.

8:05 – 10:55 a.m: I settle into a rhythm of pretending I know what’s going on in my classes.

10:56 a.m: I walk into AP Calculus AB, and I feel like a dementor just ate my soul.

11:27 a.m: I begin counting down the seconds until lunch.

11:47 a.m: 1200 seconds later, I go to lunch

11:52 a.m: I decide to not actually go to lunch, and I spend my lunch period hanging out with the fifth hour newspaper class.

12:17 p.m: I hole punch handouts, grade multiple choice exams and wash transparencies as a teacher’s aide.

12:21 p.m: I finish my aiding duties and go back to the newspaper room.

1:13 p.m: Sixth hour newspaper begins, and I copy edit the hell out of stories, avoiding my actual editorial responsibilities as an online EIC.

2:09 p.m: My classes end for the day.

2;09 – 3:30 p.m: I aimlessly wander the building and do a teeny bit of homework

3:30 – 5:30 p.m: I dissolve any doubt anyone had about my absolute lack of mathematical abilities at math tutoring.

5:45 p.m: My dad picks me up.

6 – 6:25 p.m: I try to do something physically active so I don’t turn into a marshmallow.

6:30 p.m – 10:30 p.m: I alternate between staring at a textbook to scrolling through my Twitter, Vine, Instagram and Facebook feeds to eating ludicrous amounts of food.

10:31-11:25 p.m: I Google “how to stop procrastinating,” “What should I do with my life” and “do Christians believe that Adam and Eve had belly buttons.”

11:30 p.m: I get ready for bed, decide to try leggings again tomorrow, set five alarms and lie to myself that I’ll finish my homework in the morning.

11:31 -11:45 p.m: I’m wide awake, so I tweet about my insomnia because I’m sure that will help.


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