Well, this is the story of my day yesterday. I woke up at around 4:30 because I had to finish some homework. However, before doing my homework I had to take a shower. You know when you wake up and you are really sweaty? Well, that pretty much always happens to me so I have made it my usual routine to take a shower every morning. Well, after taking the shower I went to do my homework which took me around 20 minutes. Then it was time to RUN because I was late to catch my bus. Just so you know the bus usually comes at around 6:30 am and usually I have to leave my house at 6:20 to catch it; in this particular day I left my house at 6:25. I almost didn’t catch the bus that day but that wasn’t the worst part of my day. I usually have this friend that I spent most mornings with but tada she as absent so I was extremely bored that morning. …show more content…
I quickly read a summary about the book and then got an A on the quick which actually amazed me. The rest of the class we spent it analyzing the book I was supposed to have read. Next it was time for some good old U.S history, and guess what, I had a pop quiz about the Great Depression. Somehow I managed to get an A on that quiz thanks to God. The rest of the class we finished learning about the Great Depression and studying for my trigonometry test. When the bell finally rang I knew it was going to be bad for the rest of the day. I had to go to DE Art. Is not that I hate the class but I’m just not an artist which makes me struggle really hard in the
So I slept great and I feel great. Its an away game at Saint Francis so that means it 's dress up day. I dress up nice so I look sharp, and go to school. School felt like an eternity my classes felt like they went from an hour to two hours long. I could not pay attention no matter how hard I tried. Finally lunch time comes around and that
Today I have to wake up at 3:30 am in order to be at the factory by 4am. Then I found out that my mother had a cold over night and I have to look after her and do all the washing, cooking and cleaning. By the time I got to the factory it was 4:30. And when Mr. Bob sa...
I was taking AP World History, my first AP class. Keeping up my grades in the class was one of my biggest concerns, but surprisingly, it turned out to be a relatively laid-back class without much homework. Throughout the year, the class was mainly notes and document analysis. The only difficult part of the class was the tests. They were long and arduous with several vague questions based on specific parts of the curriculum that we had only gone over lightly. The course became more vigorous as the exam date drew closer; we began writing more essays, the tests we took grew longer, there were after school study sessions, and even a mock
Exam number one. The test to start off the semester. Bombed it. What seemed to be so easy, all of a sudden, got extremely difficult. I went blank. Scientifically speaking, I had test anxiety. Next thing I know, I’m sitting with a F in the class. A pretty low F at that. But how? All of this “low grade clerical work” was such a breeze. It was like I forgot everything I did for the past two weeks. So of course I panic. I can’t go into college next fall with an unacceptable grade like that on my transcript! I make it a point to study hard for the next
I remember when summer was three months full of free time and having fun with your friends but as we grow up those days seem to thin out! This summer went by really fast for me. It seems like just yesterday we were finishing up the last day of my junior year. Although my summer was super busy I still had a pretty good time!
My freshman year of high school everything was so new to me. I was at a new school, with new people, in a new environment. I wasn’t prepared for high school in even the slightest bit. My school did not do a good job at preparing me for the real world. What they don’t tell you when you finish eighth grade, is that you’re going to have to read a book over the summer. So, here I was first day of freshman year and the teacher goes, “Alright class time to take out your summer reading books. We are going to do a lot with them over the next few weeks so make sure you bring them every class!” My heart dropped. Summer reading assignment? I quickly turned to my left and ask the person sitting next to me if they had any idea what the teacher was talking about. With an attitude, like I was distracting her, she quickly told me we were supposed to pick a fiction book to read at the beginning of the summer. I thought my life was over. As soon as I got home from school that day I researched for easy fiction books to read for a ninth grader. “Percy Jackson: The
I felt fine on the reading and English sections, even though I’m not great at the subject. But when it came time for the math section, I was so confident I breezed right through it and didn’t check any of my answers. Though that probably wasn’t the best idea, I didn’t think about the horrid assessment again until the scores came out right before spring break.
Going into college I thought everything was going to be a breeze. Actually, I thought it would be just like high school. I quickly found out that, that wasn’t the case. It was so many different people. The setting wasn’t something I was used to at all. You know how in high school majority of the people were goofy not really focused on what they should be focused on? Here it was the total opposite. Everyone was ready to learn and do something with their lives. In high school we never started learning on the first day or even in the first week. I wish it was the same! Then coming home after a long day to nobody at all telling you to clean this, do that, help your sister with this, but actually coming to your room of peace and quiet. All together
The best day in my life was when I got promoted from the fourth grade to the sixth grade, or so I thought. I had been held back in fourth grade which meant I did fourth grade twice. So of course I was elated when a new program started the next year that allowed me to skip the fifth grade and go right into my sixth grade year. I rejoined my class and reconnected with my friends. All was right with the work again. The problem with skipping the fourth grade was that although I was socially on target, I was academically behind.
Moving weekend. These two words have defined my life several times since my pilgrimage to Colorado. My first few years here were chaotic, unknown, and completely spontaneous. For someone who likes control, a concrete plan at least two weeks in advance, and a generous helping of consistent routine, my first days, weeks, years, where I was but a nomadic, semi-"homeless" wanderer were met with the most challenging and illuminating moments I have yet encountered.
The shrill cries of my alarm echo across vermilion painted walls, stirring my consciousness into an aware state. It is precisely eight o’clock on a warm summer Monday; the distant cries of mockingbirds can be heard above the soft whirring of cars passing our genteel residential street. My ears scan the house; it is quiet – barely a sound other than the tinkling of tags as our pets navigate the living room. The still morning air brought realization, with no children running around Mother must have already left for work. Never leaving my lax position I stretch and sigh, it is nice to not have to baby-sit my sister’s kids – my nieces and nephew – but I do miss the mornings where my mother would still kiss me goodbye.
Waking up to a new day. As I rise from my bed I look off into the distance of my bedroom. The bedroom of my house, my very own property. I sit up from my bed, and start contemplating whether or not this is all a dream. But no, this is reality. My reality. I thank you lord for another day it is still very surreal where I am in my life now. 30 years old, living in a 3 story house with two beautiful girls, twins as a matter of fact. A gorgeous view of the world around us, looking out the windows of this gigantic house you can see nothing but beauty. Life at its finest and purity. I always keep a bible and a cross by my bedside and never forget where I came from. The real me, is me. That will never change. Nor will it ever impact me as a father to my beloved children.
The light from the sun reflects off the pure white wall, illuminating the room. The dust floats, undisturbed by the empty house. This is what I see as I launch myself out the door, into the hot summer air, into the sounds of playing children.
Years ago I had the most terrifying, shocking day of my life. I had between seven or eight years when this happened. The day before the accident, all my family was at my grandfather’s house. We all were eating the food my mother and my aunts brought, telling jokes at the dinner table. Meanwhile, I was playing with my cousins in the backyard. Everyone was enjoying the family meeting. As the time passed by and everyone was about to go home, my mother suggested the idea that we all should go at my grandparent’s ranch next day, since everyone was in town we all could have the chance to go. Everyone liked the idea. It was the perfect time to go because it was a weekend. As they all agreed to go, they begun to decide who bring what to the gathering. Who would have thought that thanks to that suggestion, I would lead me to the hospital the day of the reunion.
A typical Sunday morning at my house is a little less sleep and a lot more work. It 's early when my eyes open. The first thing she tells me is, “Mija, I want you to go to the kitchen as soon as you get your clothes on.” Not even a “Good Morning.” The market’s over at the Redlands and there 's a lot of traffic at that time. It usually takes me a bit to get up. There 's a whole routine to it; she 'd yell at me so I 'm up, make me take a shower, and have me go feed and take out the dogs. I don 't even know why we have five, our house barely fits two. Nonetheless, I love them all.