SHS Year One: A Summary

MONDAY

The usual bored eyes and sarcastic smiles. Mondays never exist in my presence. I always thought that it’s a Tuesday. It’s like that new medicine prescription given to you. You refuse to have it, unbelieving you had such illness when you thought you’re normal. I have overcome the fear generally. I got used of its reality. I go forward even without productivity requirement because time waits for no one. Rather than live behind. But hey, it’s Monday! Also known as the last day of booze before the week actually starts, according to the trio in the family. I’m not part of it by the way. It’s like a Sunday with a high risk of obligation the next day. Because it’s a Monday! Hangover + working? Not good.

TUESDAY

The usual thought, “what distraction I do to myself to kill 2 hours?” The tension during Research class in the same group with my crush for 4 years. Damn. I’m sure I already got over him but damn again, I find myself laughing at his jokes. And I admittedly take more than just a glimpse of him during lunch break. He’s a son of a businessman that made his attire look like he’s walking on a runaway show every hall in school. Same jeans everyday? Normal. But his footwear? Not the same everyday. Maybe it’ll take a month before he repeats his kicks. I still haven’t got a real conversation with him though. Never. Will. I. Ever. Have I mentioned that I’m the only girl in the group? Also, I’m close with no one. So I tend to hangout to another group while doing my work. I don’t want to look stupid on my own. No man is an island, man.

WEDNESDAY

My mini anxiety morning walk towards school due to wash day. Well it’s normal to feel stupid once in a while, and then your insecurity drank a mug of coffee. Also the day of the week where my friends say I’m surprisingly early when its 10 minutes before class, 5 perhaps. Maybe because our Reading and Writing teacher is known as strict. That’s not the chase, it’s the funny scenarios that made you prevent from being late—being laughed at rather.

THURSDAY 

What is better than Thursday? It’s that weekday like Saturday with more jolt of emotions. I would cry right now but it won’t be mattered later on. Not much of a big deal.  Unless if I go berserk in a minute by simply avoiding your gaze then fake being mad afterwards. Ha, ridiculed on you. But don’t take it for granted. There will always be a chance I’m insulated by you. The whole part of ignoring is the process of breathing in the serenity and preventing myself from punching you. You know how much guts not to put a scratch in any revealing part on somebody else? And I’m not the punching type.

FRIDAY 

Another 2 hours of P.E. class, another “hide behind the stage to watch a movie with friends” routine. If not, I find two of my friends at the corner scrolling through their phones. Such millenials. The merely day of work of the week. Nothing much happens when it ticks after lunch time due to past deadlines. Me on the other hand, always on the last-minute of halfway done on a project. The same self conflict in lacking of motivation. Such an endless journey way back to me. If it were a story I think it ended long ago. The ending? I guess it got hit by a truck. After class, we automatically head out to my friend’s house to continuely watch movies and eat fries. Or watch local films and order fast food until past my curfew.

SATURDAY 

The day of procrastination. The day of negligence of loaded with school works. The day of seeking adventure when in reality I stay at home and do my laundry then sleep during the afternoon. Sleeping is good. What’s not good about it is that it let me stay up until 3 AM. Throughout the night, the house has been filled with my brother’s spotify playlist of whatever they feel like and the smell of vape—even from the second floor—from time to time. But they can be so oddly caring and extra funny when drunk.

SUNDAY 

A 6 AM alarm for jogging. Turns off then back to sleep. Then a human alarm barges in my room, my eldest brother. His way of getting me out of bed; one, nudges me to annoyance. Two, leaves the light on to the extra annoyance. Both gives me headache. Most times it is mom who’s the human alarm when neither of us can’t get out of bed. 8 AM: arrival time. A lap is weak. Two is normally an exercise. Three, half the lap makes you feel potential at something then tired on the second half. Then four, I normally walk and feel I could trip any moment how much weight my feet has. If none of those happened, I would go to church with my mom at 10 AM. Either way, I tend to sleep until lunch is ready. That is how I ruin my sleeping schedule. “I wish I had done it sooner than later,” as I talked to myself staring to the unfinished school works before me = less sleep. Any other way, my productivity percentage stayed the same.

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