I can't write anymore what is this piece of crap
- Locked due to inactivity on Aug 4, '16 4:30pm
Thread Topic: I can't write anymore what is this piece of crap
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I'm the type of girl who loves beauty sleep. I love sleeping with a burning passion. To be honest, if I were allowed to say that my favorite hobby is sleeping, then I would definitely admit that it's my favorite hobby. Waking up with messy (h/c) hair while blinking the sleepiness out of my eyes is my favorite way of saying that I'm content. However, I don't enjoy having to deal with my hair on school days. Messy hair and waking up early after studying hard to make sure I'll get a good grade on a test isn't exactly a walk in the ballpark. At least, I happen to think that. Messy hair + alarm clock + school = average day for me.
Beep beep beep beep beep!
I jolted awake to the sound of my alarm clock, my (bright/dull) colored eyes blinking several times in confusion. I was still half asleep, and my brain wouldn't register what the sound was coming from or what it was supposed to be. After a minute of the beeping noise continuing to go off, something in the back of my brain finally registered, and I realized that it was time for me to hitchhike my ass to school. After wiping the drool (Eww!) off of my chin and rolling to the side, I slammed my right hand on the top of the alarm in an attempt to shut it off. Unfortunately, my hand missed the correct button by a few mere millimeters and sent the thing flying off of the stand it had been sitting on. The poor electronic sailed a few feet away and landed on the carpeted floor in perfect condition. Woohoo! Looks like I just got a freebie for being such a sweet girl, eh?
I grinned as I stood up and stretched out my poor tired limbs. The alarm clock continued to beep at me as I walked over to it. As my hair fell into my face, I picked the device up and pressed the off button. That thing could be so very persistent if it wanted to be. I moved my hair out of my eyes to glance at the time. The screen read 7:43 A.M. I set it back onto the stand, a low grumble escaping my lips. I had about thirty minutes to get ready and get out the door to be able to make it to my lovely boyfriend's house in time. Last time I was late to his house to walk to school with him, he had threatened to leave me behind with no regrets. He KNEW that I was scared of being alone. What a huge jerk, right?
As I made my way to my bathroom, I could hear my mother shouting something from the kitchen. "Breakfast will be ready in a jiffy, hurry up, (Y/N)!" She yelled down to me. While rushing to grab my clothes from my closet, I hastily shouted back, "I'm on it!" I picked out a gorgeous black top that had laces in the back that kept the top firmly to my body. I chuckled as I remembered buying it with my best friend Taylor at the mall. When he picked it out, he made a remark that it resembled a corset (while winking at me) and added that I'd look hot with just the corset and my underwear on. I looked down at my right hand, smiling. I had slapped him with this very hand on that day. And that was the end of that.
After getting the top on, I threw on a pair of light colored skinny jeans, stuffed my feet into some pair of socks, and brought out my sneakers. My fingers fumbled with the laces for a minute as I tried to untie the knot I had accidentally made on Friday while struggling to get my shoes off. When I had managed to get the laces loose, I threw them on, sloppily tied each shoe with a lazy bow, and rushed to the bathroom to wash up.
Once I had finished touching everything up and getting my personal hygiene things out of the way, I walked into the kitchen and plopped onto a chair that was facing my mom. I could smell something sweet wafting throughout the house. Inhaling deeply, I inquired, "What are you making today, mother dear?" At first, my mother didn't respond- all that she did was hold up one finger to tell me to wait. I sat there staring at her until she turned around with her pan in clear sight. My eyes widened as I saw delicious looking pancakes still cooking on the heated pan. My mother turned away, hiding the smile that was on her face. "I added extra sugar and a touch of vanilla to make it smell good. I'm sure you'll like it, it's not much different from any other pancake."
"How is it not different?" I asked. "It sounds amazing."
"Oh, I'm sure it's not that amazing, (Y/N)."
"No, it must be! You made it sound like it is. How dare you say such a thing about your cooking."
"Since when did you like my cooking, darling?"
"Since, for like, ever!"
"There you go again, (Y/N). You silly girl."
I laughed with my mother for a long time, a smile slowly taking over my face. -
Those are a lot of words.
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^
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Just because it's a lot doesn't mean it's good.
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ok then...
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Why do you all keep on giving me half answers? Is it really that bad?
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no not bad. im just weird
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