Important ANNOUNCEMENT. Not really.
DramaTweets
For a Good Cause...
Is it even possible to die from anticipation? I guess dying now beats dying later when I get to see my marketing grade, which may or may not be a five. (Failing grade's five here guys, highest would be one, you get the picture.)
I know I'm not ready to see them but I just want this over with. I've been feeling like a candidate on death row for the past week and the extended anticipation is definitely not helping.
'Sides, my parents might go to sleep and since there is just no way in hell I'm looking at my grades, I'm getting them to look at it for me.
Oh good Lord.
More later. Too tense to write. Too tense to even think straight.
Ciao.
I know I'm not ready to see them but I just want this over with. I've been feeling like a candidate on death row for the past week and the extended anticipation is definitely not helping.
'Sides, my parents might go to sleep and since there is just no way in hell I'm looking at my grades, I'm getting them to look at it for me.
Oh good Lord.
More later. Too tense to write. Too tense to even think straight.
Ciao.
DramaQueen files this under the woes of school
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A Poem
By Robert Frost
Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village, though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.
My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.
He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there's some mistake.
The only other sound's the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake.
The woods are lovely, dark and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.
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