╚ A Ðay in the Łif℮ of Chlo℮ ╣

By seven thirty, I'm running around the house like a whirlwind, late already and tired as ever.  Eight o'clock rolls by and I'm sitting in class taking page after page of notes for my World Civilizations class.  Five minutes into class and a sore hand later, I'm beginning to wonder when it all will end.  I've suffered through the first test, isn't that enough? 
And so, World Civ. finishes, and I'm off running again, eager to escape the claustrophobic classroom and I end up in K-mall; finishing homework, reading, and eating lunch.  After that time passes, I get to go back to class--English Composition II, to be exact--and we talk about our newest book and get our tests back.  Satisfied with my score--somewhat--I settle back into my chair with pen in hand and my feet propped up on the empty chair in front of me.  Half and hour flies by and I finally start to feel the sleep I lost when I needlessly stayed up late last night, and my pen becomes a toy.  My professor's aims a question at me, I answer, she asks another to the boy to my left--Chris?--and I return my attention to her words.  Then, the process repeats itself.

Four thirty, however, found me out on the Blackmon's trampoline, lazily sunning myself and enjoying the cool(--er) weather while my little siblings beat eachother with noodles and beach-balls. 
Good evening, God.   ♥