Making Peas

I had to wake up early today to take my sister to Townview. She needed to go to some English III workshop. I figured it was my turn to help the family out, so I took her.

Needless to say, I was no prepared for that early wake. After I returned, I took a 45 minute nap. Then I woke up and watched the last half of Fulham vs Arsenal. That was fun. But! it was nothing compared to the Manchester United vs Aston Villa game. It wasn’t airing on my cheap cable so I decided that if United was winning at the half I wouldn’t watch the second half, since Aston Villa isn’t a good team. Well! United was losing at half time. So I quickly tried to find the game online. By the time I found it, the score was 2-1 Aston Villa. Then United scores another goal and! has shots bounce of the crossbar twice! United would then win in additional time. It was great!

After that, I did some studying. I had some lunch that would later haunt me. I studied some more. Then I went for a jog with my cousin. The spicy lunch attacked me. I showered. I took my sisters to Chilis, which would also later haunt me. I came home. I was in the backyard for a while. I came in and tried to study. Then, my stomach attacked me and made me extremely nauseous. I felt like throwing up. I fought that feeling for 40mins. It was tough. In the end I got over the stomach pain. The end result was a quick run to the restroom an hour and half later.

oh right, making peas. My sister needed to make life-sized peas for some school project. So I helped her with that. My hands smell like play doh now.

Now the stomach pains have returned and I’m very sleepy. No more studying for me until tomorrow. oh, by the way, I have finished all the videos for the third test. I take that one in two weeks time. Now I have to start the videos for the fourth test. I’ll take that one two weeks from Monday.

An appropriate quote for today.

The sick do not ask if the hand that smooths their pillow is pure, nor the dying care if the lips that touch their brow have known the kiss of sin. -Oscar Wilde, writer (1854-1900)

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