It was 3 a.m.
My calculator read 12.35603. I hovered for a moment between truncating and rounding up. Just to be on the safe side, I wrote down 12.36.
Whew. Another subject done. Two to go…Science and History, right? Wait, or did I also have homework for French?
I logged onto Veracross, and checked what I still had to do for tomorrow. I crossed my fingers, hoping that I could go to sleep before 4 a.m.
The website loaded.
And it loaded.
Just fucking tell me what I have for homework tonight already, you asshole of a computer!
Oh, shit. The Beach Ball of death…again.
I shut all my windows and reopened them, all the while wishing that I were dead already.
I stretched a little, hoping that it would help my headache: my head was spinning with fatigue caused by a hopeless caffeine crash resulting from drinking three cups of coffee in four hours.
For about the twentieth time in a month, I broke down.
Does everyone’s life have to be so hard? No, I don’t think so. Then I remembered the words of Ryan Higa on the topic of FWP (First World Problems). JUST SUCK IT UP, I thought, the kids in Africa have it a helluva lot worse. At least I’m eating three meals a day.
The webpages slowly came back to life.
I clicked over to Calendar on Veracross to look at my assignments and possible tests and quizzes.
I blinked. I simply couldn’t believe it. My Science and History homework were all due next week, not tomorrow, not even this week. Whew. Three hours’ work saved for another night, or, should I say, another morning.
But I still had my French homework.
“#2 C’est à Toi, Traduction p. 20”
Okay. This is easy work. Unless if I’m an absolute bozo, this will go fast.
“C’est à Toi #2
- As-tu jamais lu le journal…”
I wrote down the answers, knowing that in my fatigue my handwriting was almost illegible. But I still kept going. After all, I simply couldn’t care about anything other than going to sleep.
I raised my head from my desk and stretched, realizing that I’ve been in the same position for at least six hours.
I looked around, seeing the first hints of light pouring in through the cracks in the blinds.
I opened the blinds in my room.
I saw the quiet dawn outside.
The empty highway, that in less than three hours will become full of rush-hour traffic again.
The almost-invisible wisp of what you would call a cloud.
The green grass in a last gasp for life before everything turns yellow and dry.
The little sliver of what you would call a moon still holding on to the last moments of night before the day began anew.
Two beautiful stars, twinkling in the last dark before it became light again.