Week Five.

I just had to go back to my blog and check whether this was week four or five. Yep. I'm already losing track.

I'm rather grumpy right now. I really hope this post doesn't emphasize my grumpiness.

So there's one thing that I really have to get off my chest. And it's something that happened the other night that still seems unreal to me. Like it happened in a dream. Heh, nightmare more like. Don't worry, it isn't anything that devestating... though I was certainly devestated when it happened.

My laptop no longer walks among the living. Works among the living? I don't know. Strange, since I'm typing on it right now...

I know you're probably dying to know how it broke. I hate to actually type this. I'm thouroughly embarrassed by it. It died in a rather crude and humiliating fashion. David and I were, indeed, fighting over the computer, when we heard a crack. The screen had been destroyed.

I'm not going to deny the fact that I cried for quite a bit after this happened. For one, I was rather embarrassed it had broken over such a petty argument as who could use it at the moment. And I was positively dreading the reactions of my parents, and Luke, and other people I knew who would have something to say about it. But yes, I was mostly upset about the fact that I would not be able to watch Psych on that wonderful screen ever again. Not be able to do my homework in my room. Not be able to have almost constant access to a new, fast computer that had been made my own.

So here it lies. Broken and cracked. I'm still using it, because my dad was able to hook it up to another computer. The ancient one upstairs. Yep. So I'm typing on the laptop, while looking at the screen of the dinosaur. It's rather uncomfortable and aggravating, really.

So that's probably the biggest event of the week. The biggest and certainly the most depressing.

My poor, poor Harry Potter. Dead. Perhaps like the real Harry Potter, it'll come back to life? Nah. I already dreamed that last night, it wasn't real.

So I broke my computer. Did anything else happen?

Oh yeah. I realized some of my friends are kinda REALLY great :) And some... well. Some certainly let me down sometimes. But who doesn't? I'm sure I've let them down just as many times as they've let me down... so who am I to complain?

Still. It hurts a little.

Wednesday was the PSATs, which you already heard about. I didn't go into detail though... shall I?

I came into Sherwood high school, practically shaking in my boots. Actually, I was wearing slippers. I love them. Anyway, I came into Sherwood, my hair in front of my face and my hood draped over my head. I stayed in the main office for nearly a half an hour. By then, it was only a few minutes until eight, and I was gradually becoming more and more anxious about the test.

Finally, a woman wrote a room number on a scrap of paper and attempted to give me directions. Hah. Yeah right. Did she not realize I was a homeschooler? Meaning I'd never actually had to find my way around a public high school? I attempted to find the right room, but failed. My common sense seemed to be slowly seeping out of my brain. I went back to the main office, and another lady was kind enough to show me the way to the room.

It was the wrong room.

We then proceeded to another room, where I came in quite late amidst a bunch of freshmen. The teacher didn't even give me any instructions; I had to use the little common sense that had not yet left me.

And then, I took the test. It was simple enough. The math wasn't nearly as difficult as I'd predicted, though I won't pretend I missed a good number of them (about four on each section). Philip said that evening, when I went to WNL, that the math was the easiest he had ever done, which certainly made me feel mathamatically challenged.

After the test was over, I roamed the halls of the enormous school, trying to get ahold of my friend Sarah, who was the only human being I knew in the building. While trying to get ahold of her, I decided it would be best if I found some doors leading to the outside, so I could get better service.

On my way there, I noticed a circle of people was quickly forming around something of obvious significance. Then, I saw it. Two girls, fighting in the hallway, in the middle of a million people. They were literally fighting. Like, the fighting you see in movies. (Paha, did I mention I'm homeschooled?)

Anyway, there was a security guard holding them off, though it looked like he was being pretty beat up too. Finally, the fight ended, and as the people dispersed, I shuffled through the hallway with my head down. And as I looked down, I noticed little droplets of red liquid on the floor.

Yes, ladies and gentleman. There was blood on the floor. I ran away.

I finally found my friend Sarah, who was merely ten feet away when we called each other. She showed me around, and I told her about my fight experience, which she found highly amusing. I soon found it rather amusing as well; I imagined the security guard, after breaking up the fight, turning to me and saying, "Welcome to Sherwood high school!"

This is the school I would be attending if I didn't go to Granite. I'm scared.

Well, it was a crazy day. And I only had to attend three periods of school when I got back. The rest of the week held much work and much Harry Potter reading.

The worst part about this week?

I did not even start a paper that is due tomorrow.

Yes, it is 8:15 at night.

I don't know what to do with myself. I have never, ever neglected to right a paper. I didn't even start it. How could this have happened?

Well, I'll tell you how it happened. I was so distressed on Tuesday, that I took practice tests all day and didn't bother to do any homework.

Then, Thursday, I got all caught up, and decided I'd just have to start the paper on Friday.

Friday, I had writer's block.

Saturday, I finished my Math test, which I studied extensively for, and then had to go and babysit.

Then it was Sunday, and I realized with a jolt that I would have nothing to hand in to my Omnibus teacher the next morning.

Crazy how that happens, right?

So I really don't know what to do with myself. It isn't just a paper I can write in an hour; no, this is my major response paper.

Writing all this down makes it way more real. Whew. Okay, I'm even more stressed than I was.

ACK.

Okay. Calm. Calm. Calm.

Yeahhh not a chance.

Well. The best I can do is start it tonight, beg my mom for a note, and then hand it in Wednesday. And pray that I don't have too much homework on Tuesday.

LORD.

I know I screwed up. I know I did. This is all my fault. But please... please, help me to focus and finish this paper by Wednesday?

I love you and I trust you.

Amen.