Klutz

Bad Teenage Poetry. That's all I have to say. Instantly a full range of minds refers to some broken hearted girl with black eye-liner, some broken hearted dude with a guitar, penning their pathetic souls into a Lisa Frank diary with misspellings and grammatical errors and everything.

And as much as I ridicule this adolescent movement of, to steal a phrase, worditude, I realize, with a survey of my insipid entries, that I am a shamefully guilty of being a member.

Rock on.

Meanwhile, work is pretty something, and school is pretty something else. I get more money for getting scheduled at weird times now though, which is nice when the credit card bills arrive. School? Did fine on my anatomy exam, got a B on the Food Science test I neglected to study for unless you count the two hours prior, was a genius and didn't realize 'til this morning that I have an open notes quiz in Rocks for Jocks. Luckilly, have all the notes, but lately the class has been more than difficult to drag my lazy ass to. Which is a bad sign on behalf of my energy levels with closing a few too many nights in one week.

But, hey, at least I'm not snorting NoDoze. I'm not even drinking coffee hardcore. I take my vitamins, but I think I'm still anemic...which isn't cool cause I look like a masochistic heroin addict. Plus, I think I cracked a rib when I slipped on the stairs last Sunday while rushing to work...eight steps later found myself in an instant. But yeah, it's a false rib that moves. And my other one doesn't. And my other one doesn't hurt either. And my other one didn't gross Banessa off when I made her touch it. But, who knows? Cause I've been a klutz all my life and can cite relatively recent occasions where I fell. Once in 7th grade, my stupid trendy doc marten wannabe (courtesy of totally awesome otha momma) boots' laces got themselves caught around the notchy dealies for the bows and while running for the bus, made me take a nasty spill. I remember a hurt rib then. But I may have fallen on the other side...
Further examples of my grace and coordination? In the past 3 years, I've been to the Mercy Hospital ER no less than five times. Like, I could be a regular guest star on ER or something.

I'm so cool.