Jenna's House of Idiosyncrasies Version 10.0 [Focus.]

Told in present tense to heighten the ferocity and lengthiness of the day.

I wake without alarm and lie there dozily wondering what time it is. My roommate's alarm goes off and I pull the covers over my head. I try to go back to sleep but decide that even if it's early, I should just go ahead and get up.

I sit up to check the time. It's 7:30. If I don't get up my alarm will violently awake me in 3 minutes anyway, so I pull myself out of bed and stumble out in to the hall to walk to the bathroom, knocking into the wall a couple of times in a sleepy stupor. I shower, get my things together for school, and go to Poli-Sci. It's in the same room as the US History class I took last semester but the professor has a much better sense of humor. I pick a seat in the back, and notice about halfway through the class this seat has a left-handed desk. Something to think about on test days.

He lets us go about 15 minutes early so I'm done with lunch before 11:00. Blah. My next class isn't til 2:00. I go to Memorial Hall computer lab and try to pick up a Bio lab. Still no luck. A throughly westernized young Asian man circles the group of computers talking loudly on his cell phone in the language of his ancestors. I don't claim to know which one it is. I know this is all very un-PC of me, but it strikes me that he can't have this conversation outside because then he wouldn't be able to talk loudly on his cell phone in a language that all the stupid white suburban kids won't understand.

Round and round he goes. Everytime he passes me I want to stick me foot out and trip him.

I refrain.

I go to the bank, and down to Bel-Jean to obtain a class packet. Spend about 15 minutes in line, pay too much money for stapled together paper, and head back to campus. I run into someone from my Alma Mater, and even though I barely said two words to him in high school, you know you have to say something, so I stumble over a half-assed greeting and inquiry into well-being and awkwardly move on.

I resist the compulsion to repeatedly slap myself in the forehead for acting like such a damn fool. With reminders of high school come reminders of high school insecurities.

I walk to my 2 o'clock, stepping into incoming traffic on the way, slowing down speeders and asserting my right of way as a pedestrian crossing at a crosswalk. Right before class a guy comes in and sits down his waterbottle on the arm of the chair. it almost slips off, and he catches it, and for some reason at that instant Tom Petty's Don't Come Around Here No More starts playing in my head, and I start thinking about how when I was a kid the Alice in Wonderland themed-video freaked me out so much, and that's what I'm thinking about when class starts five minutes later.

By the way, pending any new information, Art Appreciation should be a cakewalk.

I head to the bookstore, and pick out all my books, only to have my mother's card declined. Bookkeeping error. Fixed now. I'm going again tomorrow.

I go to Biology, where I manage to sit behind the only three jokers in the whole class that insist on talking through it. Finally one of them notices that I'm miming hitting the middle one upside the head with my notebook, and promises to be quiet. By the end of class we are on friendly terms.

I quietly eat dinner. Then I head home with high hopes for this account, but now I can't remember half the clever things I thought in my head today.

Ah, to be young and clever.

I am so tired.

Goodnight my pretties.