Today is the day that half of my school is going to be absent while they smoke copious amounts of marijuana. Let’s just be honest: why else is no one here? I hate this place.
But I don’t want to talk about justification to do drugs today. I want to talk about my time volunteering at the library, since I doubt I’ll be going back.
The past couple weeks, I’ve been shelving books at the library I haven’t even gone near since 6th grade. At first, I was apprehensive, because it sounds -and looks- boring. Really boring. But surprisingly, it’s not. At least for me.
See, when I’m holding a thick stack of books, browsing for their locations, hidden behind shelves of literature, I feel at home. I like organizing, I love books, so why not? Its an activity that isn’t hard but takes enough brain power so that I don’t think. It’s therapeutic, in a way.
I thought I’d have more to say on the subject, but I guess not. I’m kind of out of it.
BUT! I have 13 days of actual school left, counting today but not counting the day I’m off for the ACT, weekends, and the days of my AP tests (I have three this year). That means that I have 13 actual learning days of public education. 13 days of dealing with people I’ve hated for 4-12 years.
I’m almost done.
