Man, what a way to wake up in the morning. It’s 6:30am and my mum comes barging into my room going “Look outside!”. I pull back my blinds and everything’s just orange. It was pretty awesome, actually.
I went into my parents room to look out into the front yard and it’s the same. I said to my dad “It’s the apocolypse” and for a split second, his face showed like he really believed me. Mum was going a little balistic, even in the situation, and she kept exclaiming that she could feel it in her throat. When I looked over to her, her eyebrows were attracting each other and she looked genuinely scared. She stayed by the tv watching the news reports all morning.
Ana called me at around 7:30am and we decided that we wouldn’t be all that surprised if an army of zombies came flocking into our neighbourhoods. Of course, there’d be the initial shock and disbelief, but all in all, we probably would’ve seen it coming. This talk spurred a strong urge to rent out all the zombie movies we could find in Maryland’s shitty collection and imagine it happening. Yeah yeah, morbid but also so unbelievable that I didn’t even have to touch wood.
I should really carry a stick around with me at all times.
I did get some photos of the sky and one of my calf muscle looking particularly toned in the process though. It was hell windy. I really hope it’s not like this on Saturday, or I have a chance of being stood up, and therefore would make me quite sad.
I would talk about school here, since it’s a great rambling topic, but if I write about it, it makes me feel guilty for not trying hard enough. So, no go.
And just then, Bravo scratched the shit out of my legs. And it stings alot. Hmm.
I miss Meg! Hope she’s having fun in the non-orange weather of Narnia. If she doens’t meet Ozlow, I will be thouroughly disappointed.
I’m so annoyed with my brother. What kind of Year 12 person doesn’t do study and homework a few weeks before their HSC and instead plays Counter-Strike? On my computer as well. How frustrating. My parents have even said that they’ve pretty much given up on him at this point. He should wake up, because right now, where I see him in 10 years is a freeloading 28 year-old still living at home with no job and only ever one girlfriend. Pick it up, slacker.
So yes, once he’s finished his round of shooting, I’ll get on to finishing my art essay. Hello, Tony Schwenson and Patricia Pacinnini.
Byee xo
