We're Okay

Burn Baby

Mornings aren't difficult for me, just gloomy and tiring. So, maybe they're a little difficult.

   I dragged myself out of bed and went about my everyday routine on autopilot. Bailey and I both drank at least one mug of coffee every morning to get us going. It might be unhealthy, but I can't deny its power over me. I'm a slave for the devil's brew.

Bailey went to work and I to school after quick showers and some cereal.

I found my way to my first block of the day, math. Whoop-de-doo.

I can't say math is fun in the mornings, but it forces me to wake up, especially now that I'm failing the class. It dragged on for an eternity, as usual. I keep promising to bring my grades up, but with my spectacular attention span, I don't know if that's a promise I can keep.

Somehow I fought my way through my second block (gym) without being harassed. I found it suspicious that I hadn't been jumped, but I wasn't by any means complaining.

Third block, English. I survived unscathed. Fourth block, Chemistry. I had the pleasure of making elephant toothpaste with Marcie, our very own prissy popular girl. It would have been more fun had she not been so notoriously prissy, but beggars can't be choosers.

My fifth block wasn't so easy. History has always been my achilles heel. The chink in my armor. Or maybe that was math. No, it's both.

History just sucks, okay? Wow, those guys got murdered? Never heard that one before. A corrupt ruler! So original. A city on the brink of collapse? I could have never guessed.

You get the picture.

I half-dragged myself out of that hell of a class to finish my day with my pride and joy in life–baking.

Sixth block, the moment I've been waiting for. Culinary arts, baby. Oh, yeah.

I waltzed into the classroom and inhaled the glorious smell of cookies. The class before us had the same schedule and activities, so I could guess that we would be baking cookies. Plain, simple, and relaxing.

Sike.

Ms. Campbell released us to make one batch of cookies per group. I was with some people that I can't be bothered to know. I just knew that I was the only person who took this class seriously, and they would let me bake if I wanted. And I did want that. So I did bake.

I baked until some cocky "expert" got bored and decided to help me.

Should I mention that he enjoys making our teacher his personal target? I'm not sure if he meant to choose her specifically–and I'm sure he didn't because he's not the brightest, he has no clue what he's doing–but he somehow lit the stove on fire while my back was turned.

   Yeah. You read that right. He lit the damn thing on fire.

Then the idiot tried to blow it out. He tried to use a dry towel to put out the flames by fanning air at it. It was about a full minute before I acknowledged the sounds of distress behind me. Usually the people in my class act like complete morons at any given time, so I didn't see reason for alarm.

I understand that makes me look bad, but keep in mind that this guy wanted attention and I just wanted to make my freaking cookies.

Finally, someone decided it would be smart to pull the fire alarm. But only after running around for a couple more minutes, screaming their heads off because the teacher was out of the room.

The kitchen was not okay.

Three stoves were burned thanks to my group member that thought he could be brave and put the flames out with pure oxygen. I'm not entirely certain how, but there were burn marks on the counters and floors as well.