My Diary Literally

Vacation all I ever wanted?

If only this could be considered a vacation. It's spring break for my school and I don't think my parents have given me a break. Sunday my mom had me clean for over an hour straight the entire house. Then I spent a majority of my break watching a baby, doing laundry, and my piles and piles of homework. What's worse is starting tomorrow my mom is having me clean my room spotless which is next to impossible. You see, my room is the size of a small walk in closet. Throw in a queen size bed, dresser, my huge library of books and all my other stuff. It's cluttered, and clearing clutter when it's all important stuff is literally impossible In such a small room. So what happens is we spend days moving furniture, forcing me to part with the things important to me and trying to convince me to put stuff in the attic. I have this urge at random times to grab for my memories. To find objects, pictures, or books to connect me with my past and I need them there in these random moments. If it in the attic I fear it will get ruined. Not to mention that a lot of my stuff are interesting antiques that help inspire my writing or stop me from being bored considering I can't watch tv and I barely have Internet to use on my ipod. Wish me luck on my room because by tomorrow I may just be a mad hatter.