And I have to go. Real fast.
It's almost 10 PM. And I have my Hindi exam tomorrow. I hate that subject. I am flunking this test. I was studying Hindi this morning, and then I just snapped. I was just like, "Chuck this. I got better things to do. I be wingin' it tomorrow."
Also, my Sims game is not updating. I was looking forward to playing it during my spring break. Guess I am not. I need to get this excuse of a computer fixed. Or probably and iMac. I also need a new printer.
I saw all these ads for the treehouse site. (It's an educational site, teaching you internet stuff like HTML, CSS, Photoshop and all other tech stuff.) And I was pretty intrigued, so I decided to check it out. It's REALLY good. I started the first course, and then I came to know that I needed to join the website if I wanted to view more. It was like 25 dollars a month. It is actually quite reasonable, but I can't afford it. My pocket money hasn't really started up, and I already have plans for that money. And even if I got the money, I still wouldn't be able to use it since I don't have a credit card. And I don't think I'd be able to convince my dad to let me use his credit card for my own business. I could by paying him back the money, but I couldn't because I'd still have to convince him to give me his credit card. But that's a far too awkward conversation.
I can never explain my interests to my parents.
We have a 3 day program in our school during spring break with technology stuff, and I really wanna volunteer for that. I have mediocre tech skills. I think. I hope.
And I had to get the acknowledgement form from my parents. That is pretty hard. Since I don't like sweet talking them. And they didn't get how important this was. This school FINALLY had something of my interests, and I REALLY wanted to go.
They let me go though.
I also saw an Old Spice ad, and I hung my head in shame. I hate those ads. I am seeing one after a long time.
Well, I be goin' away now. I haven't studied shit for Hindi.
I guess I'll pray I pass.
Whatever.
-Sam Frank.
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