yeah

So for this week the challenge was to write on the subject of “Saying Too Much”. I had no idea what to write about, and still have no idea to write about so I will tell you a story about my Thursday
It all began with waking up at 6:50 to take a six minute shower so that my little brother Nigel and my pops could also have enough hot water to shower before heading out for the day. I turned on the water hoping that a hot shower would be worth the early wakeup, to my surprise the water took just around six minutes to heat up. So I took my luke warm shower with pride looking forward to the nice day out. I then got out and went over to my ping pong table to pick out some clothes out of the large stacks of clean clothes scattered about due to my family’s messy ways. In that time I had woken up Nigel who then started talking under his breath towards me because he can’t stand the fact that I got up before him to take a shower. I then got dressed headed over to my laundry room, following the two hungry cats meowing at me. I got them some food and replaced their water; I sat for a second or two after doing so, watching them fight for the larger mound of cat food. I walked upstairs to brush my teeth before heading out for the tour de France bike ride to school. At the top of the stairs I look out my back bar to see that it had rained, the ground wet, cloudy grey skies, and my dad walking the dog back into my yard.  I then knew that this day wasn’t the “nice day” I was hoping for in the shower. I then brushed my teeth, threw on some deodorant, put on a jacket, filled my green canteen with some trader joes juice. I drank half of the bottle, and then refilled it. Grabbed my bike from the crowded front porch, and headed out. The cold gloomy bike ride only brought down my mood; Zane had decided not to bike that day, last minute of course. So my bike ride was also a lonely one. I got to school surprisingly fast, walking in looking like a hurricane had hit my house. The lights of South High School mess with my eyes every day, and the administration looks at me like I’m on some kind of drugs. It bothers me more and more every day. Throughout the day more and more things blow up in my face about prom, who’s going with who? Who am I asking? Who’s group am I in? How am I asking whoever I ask? The stress and pressure aggravates me as the day goes on. Finally I find a way to ask someone, and have it all planned out.  Later that day, on my long bike ride home after moving bricks across a yard for two hours, I got a text from the girl who I was planning on asking, it said that she didn’t want to go anymore even if I asked. I then put together the only reason in the beginning that she wanted to go, was to accompany her friend from another school that was going. I then stopped on my bike stood for a second to catch my breath, and screamed “FUCK!” at the top of my lungs. I looked over to the right of me, my luck that a woman was walking with her four year old son. She covered his ears and gave me a glare. I need to get off now because Mr. Roseboom is getting mad at me for doing this in his class, okay bye