My Life

{getting ready to leave jazz dance class}

I am so exhausted. It must be eighty degrees in this room. Did I even sleep last night? I must have, because I woke up. My head is full of buzzing cotton. I could probably cry if I tried. I’m so tired.

It’s so hot. Good lord. Why does everyone wear long pants to this? I can’t be the only girl who wants to wear dance shorts instead. I also can’t be the only girl who shows up in booty shorts though. Not gonna do that.

It’s hotttttttt. Just wait til I get back to the dorm…

Should I talk to that girl again? Should I wait for her to gather her stuff and walk out with her? That might be weird. I might seem needy. No. Don’t want that. Can’t have that. I’ll just leave.

{Walking behind two girls having a conversation about dance}

Should I contribute? I mean, I’m right here. I wouldn’t mind if someone did that to me. So yes.

“Yeah, it’s definitely difficult when she just tells us to reverse a combination.”

Punk chick:  “Well, I’ve had dance since I was little.”

Oh yeah? You have nothing on me. Believe me. Er, ahem. “Oh, awesome! I have too. But it’s still challenging sometimes.”

Punk chick:  “What I didn’t like was that thing she called a padabure. Um? I’ve always been taught this.”  *does a ballet padabure*  “What was that other mess?”

It was a JAZZ padabure. “Ooh, yeah, it is different. Well, I’ll see you guys Monday.”

{making a beeline for my dorm}

Sleep. Sleep. Sleep. Glorious sleep. Forty-five minutes of sleep. Or should I read for BritLit? I could just do that at lunch. But what about Western Civ reading? He goes over that in class. I don’t have to read it. It’ll be fine. Sleeeeeeeeeeeep oh my goshhhhhhhhhh. I think my eyes are about to rot out of my head.

*arrives at dorm room*

It’s. So. Hot. What the heck. How. You know what, Bekah’s not here, it’s burning up, I MUST SLEEP.

*rips off shirt and flops onto bed*

Alright. Commence sleeping.

What if Bekah came back right now? That would be so incredibly unfortunate and ironic. She’d probably think I just lay around in my underwear when she isn’t around. That’s not true. This is the only time. IT’S SO HOT AND I’M SO EXHAUSTED OH MY GOD.

*door opens*

Are you kidding me.

Bekah:  …O_o

“Hey, Bekah. I just got back from dance class and…yeah.”

Bekah:  “Mhm…”

Great. Awesome. Dammit.

*Bekah gathers things for a class and leaves*

Okay. Sleep. She thinks you’re creepy, but whatever. Sleep. You now only have thirty-five minutes.

…

You know what, screw it. You’re not sleeping and you know it. But now at least you have time to look nice before class.

-___- I hate you. I don’t care about looking nice. Screw nice. I’m wearing these yoga pants and a T-shirt. Just try to stop me.

That’s fine. Tons of girls do that. You can totally do that.

*looks at self in mirror* See? It’s fine.

…yoga pants. Yeah.

OH COME ON. WHO AM I KIDDING? I CAN’T WEAR YOGA PANTS TO CLASS.

*puts on jeans, a Papa Roach T-shirt, several rings, several bracelets*

My life.

~Stephanie