Every weekend, I sleep late, like every normal teenager. Problem is, my annoying little brother wakes up at like what? 6:30 every morning? Yeah. And he dumps a bucket of water filled with ice in it on my face if I don't wake up at 6:30. What a nuisance. Otherwise, if I go hangout with my friends before he gets up. he says, "Mrs. Mellark! Going out with your boyfriend?" Yeah, I like Peeta, as a matter of fact, if you didn't know before. Personal opinion, you'll live with it. What a strange little kid. No idea where he learned what a boyfriend was, but fine. The major thing that makes me mad is when my parents always make me do math all the time. Like, seriously. I don't like math. I don't want to tell them that though. But I'm pretty sure my dad can see that. He never cares anyway. My dad always wants me to be someone I'm really not. Someone that no one likes. Someone who loves math, loves computer engineering, and hates everything else. That's not me. Seriously. Pretty obvious that I don't like math since I'm not doing freaking algebra or calculus on the math club right now. If there even is one. Instead, I'm spending precious time on the True Writers club because I amor writing. And I want to be a writer. So phooey to you, Dad. You know, life feels strange sometimes. Remember how I said that my dad wanted me to like math, and not writing? Well, I'm not being myself then. That makes it so that I'm lying to myself. Oh yeah, remember all those stories you were told when you were little? You know, The Boy Who Cried Wolf, and blah? Well, then my dad is ignoring those stories he told when he wants me to like math. Okey-doke. "AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!" Dang it, gosh, that was my annoying little brother who dumped a bucket of ice water on my head when I was typing this. So, I guess, ciao for now!
