The Sleep

Dear diary,

Let’s skip the part where I profusely apologize about not writing more, especially when I say I’m going to write more. I’m a liar. And nobody cares anymore. It’s a sad sad life.

I’m writing this to touch you up on my life. Maybe one day I’ll look back at this and laugh or cry or cringe. Emotion is good. Side track- how come when a person feels things or is sensitive about some things he/she is called emotional? Like it’s a bad thing. Aren’t we all emotional? We feel love, hate, despair, anger, arousal and stuff. Those seem like emotional things to me. I don’t know why the word is used so negatively.

But anyway, I’m currently in an exam room, hovering over the face of the waters like the Spirit of God that one time. I’m supposed to be looking out for cheaters but I’m so bored. So sleepy. And there’re only 11 people in this room. What can go wrong?

Well, for starters, there are two individuals in this room that I have already busted using their phones earlier. They look like repeat offenders. Shady beings. I’m watching them like a hawk. Or at least I was before I sat down.

See, my feet need a break and since they don’t speak they underscore this by sending jolts of pain up my legs. Must be nice, taking a break. Throw a little tantrum and poof, feet up. My shoulders are jealous. But my eyes are sympathetic (as is my neck). So when I sit down, the eyes start to shut and my neck wants to fall where it may. And that’s no good because there are cheaters in this exam room.

And that’s why I decided to write thereby proving that if I wanted to I would. I’m so disappointed in myself.

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