First off, I didn't get to sleep in. And I don't get to tomorrow either, cuz' of Race For the Cure Of the Bubonic Plague, which I have have to wake up at four to get to. So today, anyway, I could only sleep in to seven, which is unheard-of when it comes to my sleep schedule.
Then, I had to go to seven hours of marching band practice. I kid you not; seven hours of mindless hammering on my sorry excuses for chimes. And I'm not even counting my hour-long lunch break, which had to be cut short for pit people (percussion minus drum line) because we had to set up. I cannot relax in forty-five minutes.
Thank goodness the pit guys took me out to lunch (Gnatt, a junior marimba player/nerd drove, while Ram, Mucus, Herod, Mung and I piled into the back of his rickety wagon.), or I would've died of boredom. See, I truly love hanging out with my guy friends in band because they're all so funny and cool to hang out with. There's no gossip, no back-stabbing, just good-natured ridiculous fun. Like pulling over and forcing Mung out of the car when he claimed that the Insects sucked a$$.
After running after our wagon and groveling beside us, we let him back on, but only if he said the insects were his favorite band. Take a wild guess what happened next.
Of course, I have girl friends too, and some super good, sweet, kind ones to boot. In fact, I hang out with them more than my guys. But after a while, it feels good to spend some time with simple-minded men.
And yes, I just insulted yet complimented the male species. Get over it.
Well, my day did end on an good note, for spaghetti was to be had when I got home. So t wasn't all bad. But tomorrow, I wake up at four. Oh joy. Until next time,
Tirza Reed, signing out.