Project Postpone

“PPS School Closure Due to Weather Concerns” crosses the subbar on the Local Fox 12 News. Sleep sand still in my eyes and the light from the TV is, I can imagine, as blinding as sun tanning on the sun. The cup on my bedside table was still on the floor with water dried to my notecards, leaving a permanent smudge. My Health Poster was due today, and my two partners are complete slackers on opposite sides of the social food chain, making it incapable for them to work together. In flies Superhero Kayla to the rescue to keep her grade up while letting her partners fall in the dust as they deserve.

The introduction of our project began with the lines right from God himself: “You will only be receiving an individual grade.” The Man, I remember my partner’s eyes rolled right out of their sockets when I vocally said “That’s what I like to hear.”

Me, being a good person, tirelessly practiced my presentation for thirty minutes at 12 AM the night before the presentation, which is more than anyone else can say. Unfortunately, during those late nights of me “practicing” – (I say “practicing” because the thirty minutes also consisted of a ten minute run for chicken wings and a thirteen minute power nap) – I knocked my glass of water all over my note cards in attempt to get a napkin to clean the barbeque sauce off my hands. I would be more upset if I 1. Wasn’t asking for it and 2. I actually put effort into those notecards, when, in reality, it took me seven minutes (the seven remaining minutes after eating and napping).

So, yes, The Man and his wife, Mother Nature, we’re really looking out for me when starting snowpocalypse. Just one more day to mark down on the calendar as a blessing. I feel like The Man pulls strings like this for me so often because I’m a good person and deserve it, but I feel like he should have learned his lesson that days like this always go by with me doing less work than I was originally going to do. Last snow day, I broke a record and didn’t get off my couch for thirty three hours. Call Guinness!

And, no, I’m not planning on remaking my note cards. The Man himself is the one who put that napkin under my glass, so I’m taking it as a sign.

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