He says this at about 12:30a.m. Monday morning as I start to plan (out loud) the next few hours of this fifth of July.
In less than four hours, my phone and alarm clock will simultaneously go off, and even if I manage to snooze both of them in my temporary awakeness, snooze is set to about 3 minutes.
So when 5:15 rolls around, I plan to have my ass out of bed.
I'll head upstairs and drink chocolate milk and orange juice, and eat a clif bar and some grapefruit.
I'll leave my house by 5:40.
At 6 am I'll work through the doors of CBRC, where I'll head to locker 513 and dump all of my junk for the work day.
At 6:05 I'll fill up my water bottle and hit the elliptical machine, then pump iron until about 6:45 at which point I'll shower, brush my teeth, and finally clock in to work by 7.
It is at 7 that my day will take a turn for the unbeknownst.
Blake says I plan too far ahead.
My 4th of July was good, thanks for asking.
Hokay wait, it started off terribly.
Falling asleep close to 3, I was awoken by heat and dehydration a bit before 9. I make my way upstairs in a daze and down two glasses of orange juice before plopping down in the hallway (where it was cool and dark) to attempt to sleep for a bit longer.
I wake up at 10. My stomach has this horribly familiar feeling of wanting to expel its contents in the fastest way possible. I hold it back, and am extremely closing to sliding into home base (sleep) when my sister screams at the site of me laying in the hallway.
I don't know why I looked so terrifying laying there.
But I do know that her scream caused me to sit up, my stomach to say "oh eff this" and a few seconds later everything I'd eaten in the recent times was rocketing out of my mouth and both nostrils.
Cool story, right?
Then I brushed my teeth for about 20 minutes, drank some water, and crashed until about 1pm.
I woke up to a call from Blake, asking when I would come over to aid the the blowing up of stuff.
An hour or so later, I'm at the Chapman household wrapping electrical tape around fireworks, smashing them with a hammer, and igniting them so they explode as opposed to emitting sparks.
Alas, simply blowing up fireworks becomes slightly not entertaining.
The highlight was taking an empty soda can, coating the inside with WD-40, taping the modified fountain inside, and having the entire thing explode into flaming pieces of shrapnel.
It is a wonder that my cousins and I still have all our limbs firmly attached to our bodies.
The rest of the night, was, simply put, just a helluva lot better than my 4th of July last year.
A year ago, I was in California. Things where dandy, but as you may guess I was missing things at home. It wasn't until I noticed that everyone in Sacramento was beyond satisfied with watching fountains of sparkles that I really missed home, where I knew everyone would be filling the sky with colorful explosions of awesome.
As many of you may have noticed, my sensor for awkward... Doesn't really work anymore.
This is largely due to two things:
1.I have been in so many ridiculously awkward situations in my life that I just don't notice/care anymore.
2. I'm quite apathetic when it comes to sifting through BS.
So tonight, as I'm sitting around a fire with a group of people, no one is saying a damn word. I can't tell if everyone was satisfied with silence and simply enjoying the warmth, or if it was just plain uncomfortable.
Multiple times I blatantly attempted to start a conversation topic that everyone could get in on. Sadly I failed pretty much every time. I eventually just chatted with Pete for a bit.
I've said it before, I'll say it again. I can't help but to think how much nicer of a world we would live in if nobody had text messaging.
I'm well aware that I'm a dirty scumbag hypocrite and I text all the time, but I at least do my best not to have serious conversations and leave it mainly to making plans or asking brief questions.
It seems that no matter who I'm with, people are on their phones talking to everyone but the people who are two feet away.
At this point I have about 3 hours to sleep.
I have 3OH!3 songs stuck in my head, and I like it.
While driving my parents to Blake's, I gave them a back massage by playing Beaumont while they where in the back seat. My two 12 inch subwoofers had them shaking, and me laughing.
I kind of saw this coming, this blog having so many different thought processes tossed in that it becomes sort of meh.
Howell, Ima finish my powerade and get some power sleep in.
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