The (extremely goofy) adventures of Max

Entry 18: Midnight Jitters

Thursday, May 9 (Late at Night)

I can't sleep. It's past midnight, and I'm just lying here staring at my ceiling, my room lit by the glow of the streetlamp outside. Tomorrow morning, we leave for the camping trip that's been the talk of the school for weeks. And now that it's almost here, my brain's stuck on this endless loop of excitement and worry.

I'm excited because, well, it's a weekend away with my friends, full of campfires, pranks, and whatever weirdness we manage to cook up. I can already see Leo telling his dramatic ghost stories and Lo trying to sneak marshmallows into every snack we have. But then the worry kicks in. What if I show up and realize I forgot something crucial, like my sleeping bag or extra socks? Knowing me, that's not just a possibility—that's likely.

We leave from school tomorrow morning. First, we've got a half-day of sitting through classes where no one will pay attention, and then the bus picks us up. The thought of carrying my backpack through those hallways, crammed with excited kids who all smell like sunscreen and bug spray, makes my stomach churn a little. I can practically hear the teachers shouting over the noise, trying to get us lined up without losing their minds.

And of course, there's my morning routine to survive first. Mom's going to insist on a "hearty breakfast" to send me off, complete with eggs and toast that I'll barely touch because my stomach will be in knots. Sammy will be extra bouncy, thrilled that he'll have the house to himself without his annoying older brother around.

I keep telling myself it's going to be great, and it probably will be. I've got Lo, Ben, and Leo, and we've got plans to turn this trip into one for the books. But right now, in the quiet of my room with the clock ticking past midnight, all I can think about is how it's so close I can't tell if I'm more excited or nervous.

Here's hoping I manage a few hours of sleep before the sun comes up. Tomorrow's going to be the start of something wild, and I just hope I'm ready for it.