this is a story i wrote, and i want your comments, so leave them k

I yawn, it's been a long and somewhat tiring day. I've got my sleep rhythms down to a science and no longer need the use of my alarm clock to ensure that I am awake in time to gather my thoughts and begin my so called day. I refer to a day as the time between my waking and my sleeping in preparation for the next day.

I woke up this morning, round 4:30, maybe 5:30, matters not. I stretched whilst watching the news and then ate a breakfast which consisted of...

 nothing...

Yesterday I did two things that scared me. Well, one thing that scared me and one that was extremely difficult. I've been climbing walls that simulate that feeling that I assume one would get when they're climbing real life rocks outside in places that have rocks of the right size and shape that one could climb. On the purple route of rope six at the university of saskatchewan, there is a ledge that is exceedingly difficult to climb past as a result of a lack of holds (rocks) and the distance between them. I made a deal with myself. I climb this one obstacle and finally, when accomplished, go talk to this cute blonde girl that I see nearly everyday, regardless of what it is that i'm doing. There was once a time when talking to girls for the first time was an effortless task that required little or no effort on my part. I do, after all, believe myself to be at least somewhat attractive. BUT, a lack of connection with anyone in the recent past combined with my simply not being social has made me somewhat awkward in recent history. Or as I like to call it when it refers to me needless to say, I climb the wall and talk to the girl, which goes horribly, but it matters not. That's something that I have to keep in mind again, that not every woman I'm going to talk to matters as much as I think they do.

Another interesting thing happened to me recently. Ashlee Infinity Dawn Hulsey my girlfriend that i asked out just a fraction of an hour ago showed up at my locker today again. Each time is more interesting to me than the last, for reasons I don't know. I'm still, for many reasons infatuated with this girl. I realized after I typed that why I am. She's a good friend. Good friends make the best partners as you should always be friends first. Alas, perhaps this relationship will be the one i have been longing for, but i will just put those thought aside for now and simply enjoy the company that is AIDH.

I open the front doors of school, and push past the people that are waiting for the bus. Each one has something to keep them distracted from the fact that a new person has entered their potential area of consciousness. Headphones adorn the heads of most, while others are text messaging those that are more important than anyone around them. A blast of hot air hits me from the fans and heaters that are located just inside the front doors. A smell, well a combination of smells really. Hits my nose. Bag lunches perhaps with a hint of chap stick and perfume. I ponder why people wear the stuff, the odor is infinitely worse than even the most stench of human gas expulsions. I open the second door and notice the wonderful brick work on the ground, a large room that houses the help slash information desk, the smell of this area can only be described as that which those whom are contained within it's walls emanate. I head to the stairs whilst skillfully removing my woolen mittens and toque. I pack them into my bag as I move towards the lunchroom. As i enter the cafeteria i eat as fast as I humanly can. Dangerous, because i might choke... it gives me a bit of a stomach ache , also how good that movie was last night flashes through my mind and on at least some level believe that challenging my brain to ensure that my some sort of hand or foot slash brain co ordination walking requires, i keep pondering the inner depths of my mind until i reach the end of the hallway, At the end of the hallway my eyes return to eye level from their direct lock on the floor to see if anyone was watching my creepy blank stare. thank the creator, as there are none. I've just entered mrs. young’s room, which is akin to some sort of teaching slash insane asylum that contains a few of my good friends. Alongside this local university business is the mass of evil that I refer to as the lunch room at approximately eleven o’ clock. The smell is almost sickening to me as is the line of people that pay money to put that horrible product into their bodies. Past that is a “hot lunch”  line with food that I barely register as existing unless I am starving and a staff that are non-receptive to even my most incredible smile. Alas, even i can't win em’ all over. I soon leave the cafeteria and proceed outside, i am immediately surrounded my cold air, and i realize i forgot my gloves and toque in my bag, because i refuse to stand in this so called winter wonderland we call catoosa i go in side to the horrors of the library. This large, uncomfortable area is the space that those who dine on the delicious products (not food) of Albert and Walters typically come to feast. Eyes down or hands deep inside grease stained paper bags searching for that last, forgotten fry, they too seemingly ignorant of my presence. seeking fun and enjoyment i head through a doorway that leads into a wide hallway with classrooms on one side and a room full computers, and a restroom on the other. Looking left, I not how this has become the main place in the school for those needing a Facebook fix to get just that. Drunken photos of weekends past are up on nearly every screen, so predictable... then the bell rings and the time comes for my favorite class, art but upon entry of the class room i am immediately pummeled by an invitation to the art contest mrs currie had planned for the most gifted students in her eighth grade class. “Sounds fun,” i say but do you really wanna go to an art contest just to get brutalized by all of the fantastic art students from across the state, Realizing that it's not something for me I say “but no thanks,”  I move past and see a wonderful painting done by another of my friends Spencer Plumlee,I find myself lost in the the many colors and artistry of the painting examining every individual brush stroke, the i hear the bell ring it seems i have lost all track of time and spent virtually an entire hour looking at a piece of paper, but i am an easily distracted individual so i am not surprised, and I have this horrible tendency to make an ass of myself when I lose something that I don't desire to do at the moment.  after sixth hour I feel the pangs of hunger biting at my stomach I ignore the buses parked in front of the school and turn my attention to the most misinterpreted of the fast food stores that plagues north america. McDonald’s. Once a trusted name with delicious freshly food and mediocre coffee with somewhat healthy sandwiches, their efforts at streamlining have caused everything to go down in both preparation time and nutritional value, but when you are hungry and you are american we don't care how many calories are in it we just want tasty food, and McDonald’s  is pretty good. I took the “double quarter pounder” or as some skinny blonde next to me as i placed my order called it, “a heart attack on a bun”. I sit at a table and call my mother to pick me up and she says it may be a wile before she may get off work, in my head i was thinking “oh my god woman is it not possible for you to call father that is at home most likely sitting in his chair watching basket ball and what not,” but i have some common sense and to avoid further grief when i get home i say “its fine i will just wait here,”