I genuinely enjoy physical education. . . most of the time. I like being healthy, and my gym teacher keeps it fun. If we don’t like what he has planned and we tell him, we will come up with a more enjoyable alternative activity, together. However, today gym sucked.
We have these things, for those of you who aren’t in high school anymore, called fitness tests. Basically, the point is you have to go around our quarter-mile track eight times in one period. You can tell that we would have to run a bit to get the total of eight laps in forty-three minutes. Even running, I don’t mind.
So what’s so bad about this? Well, for starters, my best friend wasn’t in school today. She is the person I always talk to during gym, we keep each other entertained through basically insulting each other consistently. Second, today was humid. Really humid. My hair is temperamental. Female + temperamental hair + gallons of water just floating around in the air = one extremely unhappy blogger.
In addition, we weren’t warned that we would have to be running today. Now, guys can skip to the next paragraph because I know this isn’t something you would understand. For you girls. You know how you have certain bras that you can wear and they’ll work when you run? And then there are ones that don’t. Well, I’m wearing one that doesn’t ‘contain’ me enough.
Even this, I would have endured happily, if I were not sick. I have been a mess since. . . well, I’ve been a mess since I was born, but I have been sick for days. I don’t know exactly what it is, but I get dizzy often, my nose runs incessantly, my head hurts, I can’t stop coughing – trust me, it’s not pretty. I can’t even think straight. I said to my friends “My Dad is one of those dad’s that says ‘just go to school and if you’re feeling school then go to the sick and she’ll send you home.'” Yeah. . . .it’s that bad. If you understand what that sentence is supposed to mean, then you’re approved by my blog. You’ve been reading it long enough.
So here I sit, puffy haired, baggy eyed, runny nosed, and head ached in history class and my teacher still has no idea that I’m not paying attention. Something about Reagan, I think. He probably thinks I’m furiously typing out my notes, this is great.