Written 3/12/10

                   
The first of my hiatus-written posts! Enjoy.
                             
I have no idea when I'll post this, so it might be a while since I got grounded from going to church on Fridays for getting a D on my progress report. But right now, I'm sitting home alone on a Friday night. Pouting.

In all honesty, I was pretty pissed. You've read all the posts from my last blog documenting my personal vendetta against super-studying-no-lifers that are all-too-common in school today. Or maybe all that resentment was really directed towards myself. Maybe I was really scared that I was wasting my school years, so I desperately needed this excuse to reassure myself that I was doing okay. Maybe.

Back to the present. What gave her the right? Why didn't she understand that school wasn't worth the stress, and that grades are just the flawed system that keeps us reaching for something that is, ultimately, completely unrelated to test and essay scores?

[Yes, I do know how pretentious I sound. Work with me for a bit.]

So let me set up the scene a bit. Dad comes upstairs and asks to talk to me    a foreboding sign in itself from the man who is only ever sleeping or watching TV. I generalize for dramatic effect. He talks to me about how he got the email for the first of the second semester progress reports, and how he is worried that I am losing my 'balance'. A mischievous thought materializes in the back of my mind, matter-of-factly mentioning that he's never before shown any interest in my grades at school, and that this was a last-minute opportunistic attempt at showing he cared. I suppress that thought.

My mom, in the other room, overhears that magic letter, and demands an explanation. Upon hearing said explanation, she explodes into loud-and-in-your-face insults and multiple variations on 'you're not working hard enough'. I also exaggerate for dramatic effect. She ends by saying something along the lines of 'if you can't get your priorities straight, I don't think you can go on Fridays to have fun.' My heart falls like a rock. I hold back some very angry words that are on the verge of spewing out and making things worse. I storm my way upstairs in typical angsty teenager fashion.

You can't do this. You can't mess with the schedule. Everything was going well. The system was working. You can't just change these things. You can't.

So this is where I am right now. On this new course, just a little ways off from this unwelcome change. And, as if to further emphasize the change, I feel busy for the first time. Too many things to prepare for, too many dates to remember. Even worse, I might have to start studying for AP Bio. However will I survive!?
                                                                                                                
But really, it's not that I'm resentful. In some ways it was preventable, in others it was bound to happen. And it's not that I'm feeling this steadfast confidence and faith in God's divine plan.
I'm just kind of here.