Got up a bit earlier – at 6:50. Took a shower, did my makeup. I even did my eyeliner. Had coffee and some cereal. Three people complimented my eyeliner. History, Physics, English, P.E., Maths. In P.E. we played fucking basketball. It was terrible. I would always be the last one left when forming teams. You know what I mean…like when they pick people. I don’t know. I’m tired. I hate P.E. I hate it. I’m a confident person, but in P.E. I always feel like everyone is looking at me, thinking “Oh there’s that slow kid who can’t even throw the ball right.”
I got home at 3 pm. Made this thing that Grandma had seen on some cooking show for lunch. It turned out pretty OK. Cleaned or “freshened up” my mattress with some powder that you get with your Vorwerk. The powder smelt so good. Wasted time on my phone, then my sister made me a bath and got everything I needed – a towel, my bathrobe and of course food and a drink. Because how could you ever have a bath without eating in it? Got a text from the kid who won first place on the competition. He said I had been invited to the next level. Which is a bigger deal.
Made a sandwich for school tomorrow.
Changed the transition speed on my presentation with pictures for my speech about Adrian Mole as the speech is supposed to be 3 – 4 mins and the duration of the slideshow hsd been 7 mins. Went to finish up this assignment for chemistry class. Packed my schoolbag, brushed my teeth and got ready for bed. Figured out that I had lost my 9 day streak on Duolingo. Tragic. “For only $3.49 you can get your streak back.” Are you kidding me? 

At around 9:30, Dad left to pick Mum up from a train station. He wasn’t coming back so we got worried and called. He didn’t answer. We called Mum too. Neither did she. I was just about to cry and was preparing myself for life without parents, imagining having to take care of my sister when they came home. Mum brought some cupcakes. I had one even though I had brushed my teeth.

I’ve been having strange dreams lately. I have dreamt about Nicki Minaj coming round to my house. And about visiting Bill Clinton’s house. He was helping his grandson with his Maths homework, hopelessly in a sad, old, small, poor house.
I’m tired and just feel empty. Not sad or anything like that. I feel emotionally bored. Like I lack something.

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