End of the weak

Why, when we look back in retrospect, do weeks seem so very long?

I think it's a Friday thing. By the time Friday rolls around, deadlines are either past or approaching slowly (you have 2½ days to regroup) and you finally have time to lie down and sleep--without interruption or pesky alarms. Unless you're drunk and/or hungover, Friday nights are probably the most restful sleeps I ever get--Saturday nights to Sunday mornings are almost tied with that title.

I don't know what it is about sleep--maybe it's a teenager thing--but we love sleep. We jump at the chance to get it--well, not really jump, more like doze--and what's better than a few hours of unconsciousness EVERY night? I mean, yeah, nights are great. Quiet. Pretty. Dark. But nothing compares with the awesome feeling of dead to the world-ness.

You'll have to excuse me. It may seem pretty obvious how exhausted I am. It's the truth. A chem test, a softball game, then dad's softball practice (I am on two teams ya know)...it adds up.

Wow, I have been using the 'tired' punkymood thing a lot lately. Well, the one now says I'm sore, which I am.

That much softball (pretty much all throwing) can really tire out your arm. And I've been throwing a LOT. Every day, at practice, game warm-ups, everything. Being an outfielder doesn't help either. You throw harder and farther than the infield. So my right shoulder is aching...yeah, I'm whining...I shouldn't, Steph just got wrist surgery and she's in pain. I'm just aching. I'll be fine. :)

Well, I'm out.

Oh, there's this:

And this (SWEET!):

Have a great tomorrow!