The Countdown: August 26, 2010

COUNTDOWN TO THE END OF SUMMER

(Day 2 of my four-post series)

AUGUST 26, 2010

11:00 A.M.
I am awake, but not willingly. I'm only up because I know that Mom will kick me in the backside if I don't get myself packed up and ready to go today. Should I have gotten up earlier? Well, yes. But I didn't, because I was IMing someone important last night and didn't get to bed until 2:00 A.M., and then back-to-school anxiety kept me up for another hour and a half. Since brevity is the soul of wit, I will be brief: It sucked.

11:23 A.M.
Eating breakfast. Sure enough, practically the first thing Mom said to me was, "No TV, no computer, no phone until you're packed." This of course gives me incentive to pack--if I don't pack, I can't post, and if I don't post I'll feel like a grade-A idiot.

While I'm packing, I really HAVE to try to think of something for my senior thesis. I swear it's useless--everything I think of is too autobiographical, too cliche, too much like what I did last year. (I CAN write a straight love story, damn it!) It's so stupid--but really, all I want to do is make Alien Water Torture the way it was SUPPOSED to be made. Well, strike that; I do want to make a period piece or something involving ghosts, but they do not need to be gay alien ghosts living in the 1940s.

1:17 P.M.
Packing and thinking. So far, all I've got is something involving a fog machine and tissue-paper ghosts. Pathetic. However, I take comfort in the fact that if last year's thesis advisor were still here, he would take more interest in this than my alien-infested love story. (Sarcasm hand most definitely raised.)

3:04 P.M.
Stomach cramps and lack of sleep are catching up to me. I'm eating lunch now in hopes that it will make me feel less icky, but seeing as I still have a load of laundry to do (figuratively and literally) and more packing, I'm not optimistic. A lunch of leftovers and a short nap on the couch will probably help, but not much. Knowing me, the only thing that will help would be to curl up in my lovely loft bed with my iPod and an armful of pillows and stuffed animals.

Ooh, doorbell ringing! Dad's answering. Is it something cool? Is it an interesting new person? No, just someone trying to sell us stuff. Ick.

Grr, this is annoying, I've had to reheat my food three times. What is up with this microwave?!?!

4:45 P.M.
Just took a Tylenol. Time to lie down and then (hopefully) get back to packing.

6:08 P.M.
Packing. Thinking. Not thinking enough, apparently, because all I can come up with are Anthony-approved projects that, trust me, I would find some way to screw up. Grr. Why is it that I can think of a million movie plots when I'm supposed to be doing SAT prep, but when I actually TRY to think of something I can't?

8:27 P.M.
Finally things are looking up. Not packed yet, but if nothing else I get my new hairstyle (courtesy of Mom) tonight.

10:00 P.M.
Operation Hair Re-Do was a success. Thanks to Mom, I no longer resemble Hermione Granger. (However, my early-adolescent dream of having Avril Lavigne hair will never come true. No defrizzer on earth can remove the curl from my hair. Luckily I've learned to appreciate it.)

12:14 A.M.
Eating Cinnamon Toast Crunch cereal and listening to Secondhand Serenade. Have to get up at 9:00 SHARP tomorrow, but you know what, I'm not even going to bother going to bed. I know I won't sleep, so what's the point? It's much more productive to sit at my computer and play Gone Fishin' while trying (and failing) to think of a thesis idea.

1:28 A.M.
So disgusted with my inability to think of a good movie plot, I am actually going to go to bed. With a little luck, tomorrow's (or probably, Saturday's) post will be a little happier than this one. (With actual stolen dialogue, too.)