Alarm! Alarm!

16 August 7:56

Good Morning. I’m going to kill you now. Yes, I heard AP leave to presumably take her daughter to work. And yes, it was probably my fault that I only locked my door half-way after going to the washroom tonight, because it meant YOU could open my door to peek in on me while I’m sleeping. And guess what? YOU SET OFF THE FREAKING ALARM. Seriously, dude. You live in a house with an alarm. Didn’t you know you’d set it off by spying on me? And even worse, when the alarm starts going off, you run back into your room to hide?! Dude, what gives? Do you know how loud that alarm is? And do you know how difficult it is to fumble with your keys and cover your ears at the same time while you go downstairs to unlock the front door and turn the damn thing off?

Seriously, I’m sick of you rummaging through my room, stealing my crap, and spoiling the last day I get to sleep in for at least a couple of weeks. I do not appreciate my privacy being spoiled, my things, no matter how small, being taken, or my sleep being sacrificed at the hands of a -- what are you? Twelve? -- year-old girl who still wears a bib when she eats because she can’t manage to keep her clothes clean. The way I feel about you is the way I feel about S. (See if you can figure out that initial). At first, I felt sorry for you because you just must be a result of poor surroundings or a poor upbringing. And then, I decided it doesn’t matter, because you’re a terrible, brat-piece-of-crap anyway, and I don’t blame the entire world for ignoring you and being mean to you.

I have no idea how to do another week of this. Luckily, this is my last day here without school. You’d think I’d be enjoying it, relaxing, studying my French, and what-not. I can’t really, though, because most things are closed today, so I’m stuck at the house, bored as heck; I’m definitely not brave enough to attempt to brave the bus system again to come home, and the blisters on the bottoms of my feet, however healed, will not hesitate to... re-blister on a seven kilometre walk home. What to do... what to do? I know what I SHOULD be doing. I should be making a study sheet for my African American History final that I do when I get home. But seriously, boring, boring, boring. I guess I have to do it, anyway, though... Ah, the procrastination and apathy that marks the last week of the semester!