... I miss my mind the most."
Mark Twain said that, and I think he was speaking for about 14/15ths of the population. The remaining 1 percent doesn't count merely because they're the ones who haven't realized their minds are missing. Yet.
So anyways, this is my first official journalish blog on here. Congratulations to me. I'm not sure who will read this or why, but I never was one to shy away from writing just for the sake or writing. My fingers could use the exercise. Well not really... they're more active than my toes, anyway, but you don't see them itching to run for the sake of running. I guess I should admit a first fault of mine: I'm a rambler. A shameless rambler at that. But nobody's stopped me yet, so I shall ramble on until I can ramble no longer.
Today was Saturday. I should have been doing lots of things... homework mainly, cleaning my room, cleaning the bathroom, helping Mom with dinner... but no. Beth came over and I spent the day sitting and talking with the rest of the family, which is an enjoyable way as any to pass the day. Just, not as productive. And now, instead of stirring the macaroni, I sit here, trying to figure out just why I signed onto yet another addictive website. Time will tell, I guess.
Just moments ago, my cat was climbing on the printer. A few minutes after that, my sister was climbing on the furniture. I wonder if it's an epidemic or something.
Tomorrow is Sunday, and as it's the first Sunday of the month, we have the church potluck afterwards. That should be fun, even though it'll be the first time Jon won't be there. Which makes me very sad...
See, Jon went away to stinking college a few weeks ago, and he took along half the enjoyment of staying home. I'm getting tired of people leaving. Beth left home a long while ago, and then got married - and kudos to her. And Jesse. Kudos all around. But then the little baby we babysat for months was taken away, and then my dog died, and then I lost my keyboard. (Almost sounds like a country song, doesn't it? Except it'd be a truck, rather than a keyboard... and a boyfriend, rather than a baby.) Then Jon left, and Kate's talking about leaving next year... so, this means that I have at least another four years at home - alone - before I, too, fly the coop. And this is an oddly devastating feeling.
On the upper hand, I got a new keyboard today. The keys light up when you play them, which would be annoying, except that you can switch it off. So now I'll just enjoy playing in my bedroom with the lights off, with the keyboard lights on. It'll look cool if I'm playing something fast, like Joplin....
I don't know any Joplin. Shoot.
Well... I've kind of forgotten that when you write, it should have a point... I think I'll save my fingers from carpel tunnel until I really have something to say. That, and there's a bathroom and scrub-brush with my name on it. And a bowl of macaroni. Somehow the combination sounds unpleasant, though.
Until next time.
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