This Weekend

This Weekend I'm running like my feet can't bear to stay on the ground.

Friday, Racquetball game. Immediately after school. Opponent's a sour natured girl, who won't shake hands properly and frowns and whines and tells all her friends I'm cheating for having good positioning. I go from this to Babysitting, no time to change. They jump on me and want to play tag and have milk and dinner and the little baby wants to poop and scream and run around and Grace wants to jump from furniture to furniture, that's not allowed...

I sing to Nate as I rock him to sleep, I sing "Into the West", it's what comes into my head, and he falls to sleep in my arms and I kiss his little face on his soft cheekbone, and a little eyelash is there. It's dark and long; not from a baby's eye. So the wish is mine, and I wish that someday...

Memory fades out, I dream of the National Vocabulary Competition, and making Sra. Altadonna a ball of stress and nerves, and we get there just in time, and sit together, Laura and Christy and I, as it all begins, and up on the stage there's bright lights and dry ice and a noise like thunder and the first girl goes up, and it's not even Vocabulary but Geography, and I don't know if she even get's it right - what does that buzzer mean, after all?

It means wake up, up I get, I shower, go down and shove a strawberry crepe down my throat and take the highway to work, barely get there ontime, half asleep and with an arm throbbing from Racquetball and Baby-Changing and forty new dollars in my pocket and it's payday and I get a 400$ paycheck, so now I'm rich but I have to shelve books all day...

Home again, it's out the door, to Arabic Church - I've turned it into my Government service project as well. Little kids climbing and kicking and screaming, Alleh, Daniel, Daniela, Eva, Evaline, Mary, and a new little girl, and we watch the service, it's interesting, and we eat some food, and we're home again, the house is cold and empty without Mom or Dad or Melissa or Tidbit.

Asleep - for longer, but not long enough. I skip Racquetball practice to write the Government essay, Angie hasn't even done it, for all that. Due on Tuesday at midnight, I want to get my English essay done tonight, perhaps it will happen. Lovely times at Layla's house, such nice smells and golden colours and a bird hits the window and whirls about with a wounded wing scattering decaying leaves about it.

Dark and Deadly Kaos, Smooth and Simple Peace... I look forward to Thanksgiving, and to Christmas, and to next year being a Senior, and College, and seeing the world, and meeting someone I want to spend my life with, and having adorable little dark haired children, and then quite suddenly I don't want to go forward any more - the tunnel plummets onward to the end of my life. So I sit back, and concentrate on the minute - what do you have to do RIGHT NOW, this very minute. What's due in the next? What's important?

And I decide blogging. :D