Just a normal day?...define normal.
An essay by Jeremiah.

      Ya, sure; you probably think your life is normal. Really, though, if you take a closer look at it, it's not. Let's take mine for instance. ;-) Normal kid. Normal town. Normal life. Normal day. (Actually, I hate normality, but that's beside the point) So anyway, what is a normal day? *Is* there even such a thing as a normal day? Let's take a Sunday towards the end of March for example. Okay, I sleep until 8:00 and mom tells me to get up. We have to leave at 9:00 to be on time. I'm still really tired, and without thinking about it, I go sit on the sofa in the livingroom for half an hour. Just staring at nothing, pondering life's problems, such as why was I staring at the wall, and wondering what day it was. Ok, mom comes around the corner and wakes me out of my typical unresponsive, unfocused state, and I have to go get ready *quickly*! It's now 8:30; somehow I lost 10 minutes on the way downstairs to the bathroom, and it was 8:40 by the time I got there. I was still tired, still half-asleep, and still in that Aristotle-like pondering mode; I had twenty minutes to get ready, which is a problem because I take longer to get ready than most girls. But *anyway*... I get ready by 9:15 (lightning fast, considering..) and we all jump in the van and head to church. We pull out of the garage, and Mom and Dad noticed that it looked like it was going to rain out so mom wanted to close the door to the cat building (that probably doesn't make sense, but it would take too long to explain so I'll leave you puzzled) and dad wanted to 'quickly' put the skidloader away. We drive the van up, mom and dad jump out, mom shuts the door to the cat building and dad tears off with the skidloader and goes towards the shed - not however without running over and killing an outdoor cat along the way. It was pretty emotionally disturbing seeing something you just held the other day die right in front of you (as if I don't have enough traumatisms), and I was disgusted the way to church about that. We go to Sunday school, we go to church, and then dad had to go preach to the nursing homes that particular week. We live half an hour from church so we couldn't do much else but tag along. We left after church got over at 1:00 and we had to be at the first nursing home at about 1:15. I didn't eat breakfast, and I was starved when dad says, "Uh, maybe we'll drive through for a cheeseburger after we get done." At this everyone's like, "WHAT!?!?!?" We decided to risk being late and drove through Mcdonald's for a cheeseburger. I was craving a little more than just a measly cheeseburger too.
      We had three nursing homes to preach at. The first one was fairly normal, but dad talked too long. There was only 5 people left at the second one. (I don't think old people like to wait very long. We were under ten minutes late, which is very, very, very good for our family.) We did the second one and went on to the third one. Dad had to preach in a sort of small room, and when you get 15 people in wheelchairs in there it gets kind of crowded. We were just about to start when an old catholic lady comes in and she goes, "Is this mass? Are you a priest?"
      Dad goes, "No, but I have a special message just for you if you wanna sit down and here it. It's from Phillippians."
      She said, "Don't believe I've heard of him. I think I better just wait for mass."
      Then some other old lady piped up, "OH Helen! Sit DOWN! God is in every church!" And a lady who had a leg amputated grumbled something about, "She always asks me where my leg is. 'Where's your leg?' she says. 'I left in back in my room!' I say."
      Then dad told the lady something like, "Philippians was written by the apostle Paul. You know him don't you?"
     She said, "No, I don't believe we were ever acquainted."
      We started and finished; as we were walking out the catholic lady had this catholic pamphlet that she said she found on the chair. She thought we better take it, cuz she sure didn't know how it got there. We knew how it got there though because we clearly saw her bring it in when she came. She must've wanted to convert us to a different denomination or something.
     We got done with that at four and started to head home. Head home to rest and relax? No. Head home to celebrate Heather's, Zach's, and my birthday, since they're all within two weeks of each other.
     Was this day out of the ordinary for me? Not really. Was it normal? Not really. It was even fairly quiet compared to my last three day's schedule. Oh yes, I have one. Why? Because of my extremely focused personality as of late, or the complete lack thereof. Just to prove it, here was today's after-school list:
( ) English Report
( ) Biography cards
( ) ACT study
( ) History study
( ) Write that stupid "Normal?" thing
( ) Finish "IRS letter"
( ) Work on science project
( ) Work out
( ) Launch Update for BC
( ) Work on Book Report