Wednesday, March 11, 2009

Nine in the Morning

I would be lying if I said that I hate the Rockband song Nine in the Afternoon. As a matter of fact I would be really really lying. However, that hate statement is false. I love Nine in the Afternoon so much that you can be that I add it to my playlist whenever I get a chance. I even like to jump dance to it while I am strumming. But  Nine in the Afternoon is so not the subject here people. Let's talk about nine in the morning.

By the time I have hit the alarm on the desk six times,  I've hit the back up alarm on the night stand twelve times. And by the time I am out of bed, it is nine in the morning. The same time that I should be at school. Which translates to an extra hour and a half on my expected graduation date, which has fallen behind due to this exact problem.

There are these rare moment where I actually do get up at seven in the morning as planned. But somewhere between lotion application and blow dry I fall back asleep. Meaning, I get another hour and half added to my expected graduation date.

I am thinking that this issue is al mental, like much of my life problems. Maybe between lotion application and blow dry, I should read a book for five minutes, have breakfast, or possibly do some jumping jacks... I dunno, but this is getting out of hand. I hope that once I move out to Gilbert, another ten minutes away from school. that I don't make the problem worse. Crap.

Anyways, I was so totally on time to school today.

Friday, March 6, 2009

Pieces of Life

Dear tiny pieces of Franchesca's life,


I crawled into to bed the other day, at five PM, and decided that it was time to level with myself and apologize to you. So here it goes. I was going to save the biggest apology for last, but I have to get it off my chest.
I’m sorry that you have to spend “35” hours a week at hair school, when I know you’d rather be playing Rockband.
I’m sorry for depriving you of sleep by going to bed for the second time at two AM. An apology for not helping you get out of bed every day at seven AM, and again for not allowing you to make it to school on time, nine AM.
I am throughly guilty for allowing you to get addicted to Dr. Pepper again. I’ve been trying to help you out though, by reminding you to drink water and take your vitamins. Sorry.
Do you remember all those shows you used to watch? No? Probably not, I haven’t really given you much time to watch them. How I Met Your Mother. Heroes. Big Bang Theory. Yeah, I’ll work on that one.
The daily pony tail. I know you cut almost all your hair off and refuse to take pictures now. But I promise, it does grow back. Your bangs are cute...
Deep apologies for the whole black and white wardrobe. That ones isn’t going to change though. But I am truly sorry that all you get to wear is black and white. It must suck having to look like your going to a funeral.
The constant headache and occasional nauseousness. Wait, this one I can’t say sorry for. Just stop stressing and take a chill pill.
So I guess what I am trying to say, the bottom line, the biggest problem... I’m sorry hair school has a lot in common with purgatory.
Sincerely, 
The pieces that are left of Franchesca