October 30, 2002
I don't believe I've ever been asked to write about my daily routine. I'm afraid most would be bored to death. The girl just sits there, soaking up knowledge from her various textbooks like a sponge. She does nothing but think, read, and write all day. Though, on the other side of these blue eyes, an entirely different picture unfolds.
My well never thirsts for inspiration, for it continuously gurgles forth an abundance of creativity and vivid expression. My mind never hungers for imagination; it takes flight on its colorful wings. One may see a silly teenage girl, sitting and daydreaming at her desk, but if you look closely, you see the writer deep in thought, carefully envisioning her next masterpiece in the back of her mind.
I woke up a little later than I was wont, but the extra sleep did some good. I have to change my alarm so that the music I'm supposed to wake up to isn't pleasant enough to sleep to. I dressed in what I could find, and then began to cook a little breakfast for my mother and myself. My stepfather was too busy to eat then, so I decided to make him a big lunch later. As I sat at my small desk in the kitchen, I looked to my advanced composition textbook and sighed with content. There is not, nor ever will be a subject I adore more than English. I felt like picking it up and hugging it. Call me a nerd if you like. I love the English language and all it has to offer. Sipping at my iced oolong and green tea blend, I began to write. I can't describe in words the freedom I feel when I put lead to paper.
My mother and I worked out a schedule today, of courses and dates and times. Hopefully this will help keep me on track.