Naps – You’re too wonderful. I keep getting home and I’m so tired but it’s not time to sleep yet but I keep taking naps and it throws me so off schedule that I end up only getting two hours of sleep before school the next day and it kind of sucks. Plus naps are great, but whenever I wake up from one I never feel refreshed, I just feel more tired and like I want to lie in bed all day. I learned in Psychology class that the perfect time for a nap is about 2 and a half hours because it gets you through one full cycle of the sleep cycle. My naps tend to be longer, along the lines of five or six or even seven hours. I know you may be thinking, ‘well that’s not a nap, that’s sleeping.’ No, sleeping for me is ten to sixteen hours. But anyway, I’m tired of writing and need another nap. Naps, you’re Jerks!
Creep(s) of the Week
The people in my house who finished the Frosted Flakes – So I wake up from my afternoon nap and I’m laying in my bed when I remember that there’s Frosted Flakes in the kitchen, which is lucky for me because I’m hungry and I love Frosted Flakes. So I get out of bed, make my way to the kitchen, and great, the box of Frosted Flakes is still sitting there. Now my mouth is salivating with the anticipation of getting those flakes with their sweet frosting into my eating hole. But no! When I picked up the box it was light, too light. I looked inside it and it was empty, too empty, in fact completely empty, devoid of every last frosted crumb. Only the wonderful smell remained, taunting me. First of all this is a problem I run across a lot in my household, people not throwing away empty boxes. The God damn recycling bag is right in the fucking kitchen. You take no steps to get to it from where the cereal is. You just turn around and place the empty box of Frosted Flakes in the fucking bag. It takes no time, and that benefit is that we don’t have to live like idiots. But back to me and not getting any Frosted Flakes. Now my choices are Rice Krispies or starve to death. If it wasn’t for sugar I would have chosen death. I have to put a pound of sugar on my Rice Krispies just to boost the taste up to crap. It takes me three pounds of sugar just to get the taste up to something I can stand to swallow, but I’d be better off just eating spoonfuls of sugar at this point. And to make things worst, while I was eating the Rice Krispies a saw a hair floating in the bowl, and as I went to scoop it out with my spoon the Krispies parted and swallowed the hair, hiding it from me, and then mocked me with their snapping, crackling and that God damn popping; I hate the noise of Rice Krispies; it will forever mock me in my dreams. So I never found the hair but that didn’t stop me from finishing every last one of those insipid Rice Krispies. And now they’re not sitting well in my stomach. This whole situation could have been avoided had my mother bought two boxers of Frosted Flakes instead one and also a box of Rice Krispies, which I tend to believe no one likes much because the Frosted Flakes are always gone before the box of Rice Krispies is even opened. (You’re twenty two, why don’t you buy your own damn Frosted Flakes.) No way, I live at home and while I do I’m going to milk it for all I can. And since I brought it up in a way, what’s with the reduced fat milk. I want the fat. I’m all skin and bones, and a few mysterious bumps that I can’t figure out what they are, but the point is I need the milk fat. No, the point is I need my Frosted Flakes. The people in my house who finished the Frosted Flakes, you’re JERKS!