Most people would call my life perfect and I used to agree. I have wonderful and supportive parents and a hot, soon to be pro athlete, boyfriend. I have been described as beautiful, smart, and funny. I would say I had it all. I am currently going to...
I am feeling a lot better this morning. All I needed was some sleep and I went for a run. I turn on music and get ready for the day. I take a quick shower. I only wash my hair and body. I skip out on the shaving since Bryce isn't here. After the shower I decide to leave my hair naturally curly. I put some mousse in it and some product that keeps it from going frizzy. I let it air dry as I put my make up on. I put on my foundation, mascara, and then eye liner. I'm not really one for eye shadow. I wear it for special events, but not daily. Since my hair isn't completely dry I grab my blow dryer and put the diffuser on it. I blow-dry my hair until it is dry. I go back to my room to change. I put on black skinny jeans, a black blouse and then I slip on a gray and black blazer. I add a belt to my jeans and then I roll up the sleeves of my blazer. My dad taught me that I will only be treated based on how others perceive how I treat myself. I dress as nice as I can. To keep this outfit a little more casual I wear my black vans.
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I dress to show how successful I am and how successful I am going to be. I glance in my mirror, pleased with how I look. I then leave my room and go to the kitchen. I walk over to the counter and pull out a smores pop tart. I put it in the toaster and then grab a glass. I can't cook to save my life. I live off of all and any processed food. If I didn't run six miles a day, I would be huge. Genetics also play a roll in how in shape I look even though I eat like crap. I pull the milk out of the fridge and pour myself a glass of milk. When my pop tart is done I take it and the glass of milk over to my small kitchen table. I sit quietly and eat my breakfast.
I look around my small lonely flat. I can't wait to go home this weekend. It's only Wednesday, but I can handle it. Focus on classes and the weekend will be here before I know it. I can't wait to get home and see my family. I have missed my parents so much. I have missed Bryce a lot too. Celebrating his birthday will be fun.
I gather my things that I will need for class and leave. I walk the short distance to my first class. I don't know how my dad did it, but he got me a place extremely close to campus and I don't have to share. It can be lonely, but I'm an introvert and living with strangers stresses me out. I want this study abroad to be fun. I enter the building and walk straight to my class. I'm ten minutes early, but I don't like being late. I also have a specific seat I like to sit in. First row and right in the middle. It's the only place to sit during lectures. Not only does it make a good impression on the professor, but also there are fewer distractions. I get A's on every assignment and test. I kill the curve for the other students.
Once I'm in my seat I pull out my notebook, pencil, pen, and highlighters. While I wait I pull out my phone. It's the middle of the night in Boston, so I have no new messages. I open my Instagram app and scroll through it. Its the same old thing as always. All my friends are partying and not taking college seriously. I have always been the serious one. Once school is over I can play. For now, I need to focus. Fortunately, Bryce understands that and he encourages it. He doesn't beg me to go to parties with him. He doesn't even ask me to go to his games. I used to go, but I always studied during the games. He just shows me highlights on YouTube, which I prefer. I get bored of Instagram after five minutes. I put my phone down and grab my pencil. I doodle on a piece of paper until class starts. I wish I could say I'm an artist, but I'm not. I draw mostly circles and spirals.
