Get up Wake up, after prodding from Cait (mainly saying she won’t make breakfast if I don’t get up.) Pry my eyes open. Blink. Blink again. Wait until the absolute last moment, and pry myself out of bed. Keep blinking while searching for glasses (that have probably fallen into the dark recesses under the bed after the water bottle was thrown at them at about 11pm. Don’t ask.)
Breakfast with Cait. Hoping that she made it, anyway. If she didn’t, then help (aka, put toast in the toaster and press the button. Phew.) Meal and literary discussion follows (depending on how inspired either of us is — or thinks we are.)
9:05 (because, let’s face it. No one ever starts schoolwork at 9:00. Ever)
Starting schoolwork with Bible reading and memorization. Then maths (joy) and science (no sarcasm this time; science is not abhorred as it once was.) English, poetry, piano practise, history, extra history, flute practise and reader. Be exhausted.
Break from previous schedule, eat lunch, resume the literary discussion with Cait, or a less complicated conversation about the meaning of life.
Resume the schoolwork.
3:00 (depending on how much reader I have to do for literature)
Pack away the flute (finally) and rest assured that practise took over an hour. If feeling extra constructive, practise for another 10-20 minutes.
Check email. Read blogs. Pinterest. Arrange music.
Avoid getting dragged around the block by Cait. Lacking that, go around the block, and have more ernest literary discussions, or, joined by Mum, discussions on the meaning of life… or what the weekend plans are.
Resume checking email, reading blogs, arranging music, reading, and mayhap draw. Do jobs around the house.
Dinner, watch the news, be depressed from the amount of people who have died or been mugged, or are appearing in court. Avoid dinner dishes.
Listen to Mum read a missionary book.
Write. Drop excuses. Write over 100 words (for the 100 for 100 Challenge on Go Teen Writers) and then entertain myself until I am forced to go to bed.
Ensure the world I am, in fact, going to bed. Have a shower. Procrastonate.
Actually go to bed.
Be ridiculously inspired for 23 new novels. Scribble blurry notes (without glasses) and hope they are semi intelligible in the morning. Fall asleep and waste valuable time of being inspired.