BLASTED "BRONCHITIS"

URGH. And when I say "urgh," I mean URGH!

Stupid being sick. Stupid missing school. Stupid assignments still happening and I'm not there to get them or turn them in or do in class work or anything and URGH.

Stupid what happens if I can't fix it all.

Stupid room being messy because I'm lazy when I'm sick.

Stupid not being able to dance around in fields of butterflies.

STUPID WHAT HAPPENS IF I CAN'T FIX IT ALL?!

Okay. I know what to do.

I will eat salsa. I will drink water. I will make my bed. I will then unmake my bed by getting in it. Then I will read or write or do something productive. I will breathe.

And I will focus really really hard on NOT FREAKING OUT.

Okay. I'm good for now. Sorry for the random outburst.

Life is actually going pretty great for me. People love me. So life is good.

Good luck with your day!

<3 Amanda

"Poetry"

*Facebook Poetry^^^

EXPLANATION: This is not a poem. This is part of a chat on Facebook.

Sometimes, when I know that people aren't paying attention, I just start typing and sending a bunch of my thoughts. Because I know that they don't mind.

After writing a particularly long chain of thought, the person with whom I was chatting applauded me and insisted that what I had written was an awesome poem.

I'm not a poet. And I know it.

But it is kind of pretty. So, after some editing, I want to share it with you.

“Poem”

By Amanda Peterson

I hope you survive AP Calculus

I hope that you will love life

When you are a psychiatrist

And you go home

And drink soda

And take vitamins

And sit in a comfortable chair

And read one of my books

And your kids will have teddy bears

I wonder what memories

You will remember

And what stories

You will tell

And on your mission, when it rains, what kind of light will be outside?

When you fall asleep in the library during college

What book will be open?

Which librarian will wake you at closing time?

Will your pen have inked all over your face?

And how will the jacket feel

That you put on as you leave

Worrying about your exam

And if Channing has a new boyfriend

And that you missed the Cul De Sac that day

And your hair is sticking up

Because you keep running your hand through it

You are thinking about drums as you walk down the sidewalk

You miss them. There hasn't been time lately

And your backpack is still heavy

You wonder what it will be like

To be all grown up

You roll your eyes at your roommates

And you are out of milk

But one of your companions from your mission emailed you

It is good to hear from him

Even though most of his news is sad

He is still happy

You always admired him for that

Your blanket is blue

And thankfully it is soft when you pull it up to your cheek

As you tuck yourself into bed

You slept so easily in the library

But now, like most nights,

Sleep has to be fought for.