Twelve for the Year
You call this summer?
Ah, how I envy people who look forward to summer vacation.
All so happy to go one place or another. Well, not for
me. I am so busy during the summer that I barely have time
to myself, except when I'm sleeping. In the morning I wake
up at eight, go to swim practice at 8:30, get back at ten,
eat lunch at around noon, practice my solo after that, and
go straight to my singing/dancing/acting class at 2:30. If
you see any space between things, that time is taken up
either, here, on the computer, or being annoyed out of my
wits by my obnoxious, nine-year-old-soon-to-be-ten brother,
whose name is Michael. My brother and my father are the
only family members I see between four in the morning and
5:30 at night. My mother picks me up from my
singing/dancing/acting class at 5:30. Then we go out to a
resturant, or pick up some to-go food. Very rarely, we eat
at home, because my dad's either going to a soccer meeting,
or I have a sleep-over, or my mom has to work. If it
doesn't already seem that my day is overwhelming, well,
here's another piece of data to add to the records. I have
a "babysitter" who comes every day, and she brings her
hyper-active six-year-old son and cute, but loud one-year-
old daughter. It seems that I'm the real babysitter,
because I'm either telling six-year-old Shane not to climb
on the stair rail, or I'm keeping baby Grace from "petting"
a kitty, or I'm begging Michael to quit playing Nintendo,
and go to the park with everyone else. Even worse, my
relationship is so rocky with my best friend that we just
about have two arguments a day. Well, if you're happy with
your life, are you willing to trade?