Back To School = Back To Hell

Ok, so the first day of school after a 3 week break isn’t all THAT bad. But it’s still bad considering I have to write an essay, complete a math packet, and write up 2 history papers before tomorrow. Joy. I’ll be up until 3 am, not even doing something I enjoy. And if that’s not bad enough, I’m definitely not ready to show my teacher my Visual Communication and Design folio. I’m designing a book cover, a logo, and a poster. I’ve finished the logo, but that’s about the extent of it. I’ll "forget" it tomorrow, I guess. At least it’ll give me a couple more days.

Anywho… Today was pretty good. I had a triple of Theatre Studies. We discussed the subject of our upcoming test, Waiting For Godot.

Waiting for Godot is a play that was written after World War II as a tragic comedy. It’s basically about 4 men who are waiting around for someone called Godot who never actually comes. The play is based around Theatre of the Absurd. This particular theatre style suggests that there is nothing after life, that life is pointless and meaningless. It’s a very bleak outlook on life, personally; it suggests no hope and certainly no God. We’re going to see it this Thursday night.

Today was my last winter sport training session. At one point, I was chasing this girl and the soccer ball. She stamped on my foot and I don’t mean accidentally (this girl was downright scary). Of course, I went down like the titanic, falling on forearms and knees on the waterlogged field. Needless to say, I was soaked, muddy, and much in need of an ice-pack for my bruised toes. So, this earned me a nice, hot shower this afternoon, which I enjoyed quite throughly.

My brother’s friend, Matt, has a little sister, Kristen. When I got home, both of them had invaded the house. Sure, I love them to bits, but sometimes I just get tired of them. Matt and James were playing Minecraft. This stuck me with Kristen, watching Despicable Me (a good movie but I’ve obsessed so much over it, it’s lost its charm). Oh, well.

Fretting over school,

Marissa