March 1st is now officially labelled “The Day in Which Nothing Interesting Happens.” The entire month of February is now also labelled “The Month in Which Nothing Interesting Happens.” Well, okay, perhaps that’s a little untrue. But today wasn’t all that interesting. I got to make fun of people, but I get to do that every day. That was the extent of my excitement. I kept yawning every five minutes or so, partially because of a lack of sleep, and partially because I didn’t have anything better to do. “Hmm, what should I do? I can’t think of anything. I might as well yawn.”
So instead of boring you faithful yet non-existant readers with the contents of my day – which are as interesting as the contents of my upheaved stomach upon the table (which isn’t very interesting, in case you were wondering), I will instead talk about the upcoming, forthcoming, and oncoming event, which is to come. The entire school is going to Talisman to go skiing. Our day actually begins at the indecent hour of 6:00 AM, before the sun even gets up in the morning. Before the itinerary was announced, I was completely unaware that there was such a thing as a 6:00 AM. I was under the impression that it was a thing reserved for the 1800s, when people got up before they went to bed so they could get out for a long day on the farm, tending the crops and making sure they grazed well.
That brings me to an interesting question: why on earth does everyone say farmers work so hard? What do farmers have to do? I mean, of course they have a few busy days, such as the days of planting, the days of harvesting, and whatever days they decide to spray on the toxic chemicals to kill us all (according to the environmentalists, although I’m not quite sure that their radical statements can be trusted). But what do they do the rest of the year? Wash the crops? Scrub behind the ears of corn? Sounds to me like crop farmers have the easy life. Animal farmers, on the other hand, have to get up and shovel crap all day – and this isn’t metaphorical. Sometimes I shovel crap all day, but at least my work doesn’t smell and make me attractive to flies. Crop farmers should be required to shovel dirt all day for no reason at all – although that’s likely what they do already. They need to look busy, so they just move dirt from one location to another. After all, they just ride a tractor around when they need to, their irrigation systems take care of any watering needs, and they can’t really control the sun. So they should be shot.
But anyways, none of that has anything to do with anything that I was talking about. Skiing is a very fun pastime. It’s a lot like life. Some days you fly down the hill of life. Other days you’re dodging trees. And still other days you’re out cold, flat on your back, with a broken leg after smashing into a massive tree trunk that jumped out in front of you. Those days are days like the ski trip. Getting up at about 5:00 AM (to be ready for 6:00) is akin to slamming your face into a tree. It’s not enjoyable, it leaves you winded, and it definitely makes you grumpy. I’m not sure where the broken leg thing comes in, but I’ll leave that up to someone else to figure out. I’ve got better things to do, like shovelling crap.
A few people in our school aren’t going skiing. Instead they’re going to sit in the lodge all day, because they’re wimps. I mean, why is the legally blind girl staying in? And what about the coordinationally challenged person, who can’t even grab a person’s hand to shake it? Why is she staying in? They should be out there on the slopes, suffering with the rest of us. And then I can steal their warm seats and stay in the lodge all day. After all, I’ve never been a big fan of the cold.
Seriously though, skiing is awesome. It’s so fun, because it’s so fast paced, and once you get the hang of it, it’s really easy. I remember the first time I tried, when I was going down the hill I fell backward, but my skis still stayed flat on the snow and my boots didn’t unclamp. I basically was sitting on the back of my skis, still flying down the hill. Of course, being the calm and collected person that I am, I was freaking out. Eventually I hit a bump and went flying in six different directions, but that wasn’t before Bryan came up beside me to laugh his head off at me. It wasn’t the most enjoyable experience, but eventually I learned how to keep my weight balanced so I wouldn’t explode into a million pieces. Exploding isn’t fun. It’s almost as annoying as waking up early. Or shovelling crap, for that matter.
So those are my thoughts for the day. I now have nothing else to think about, because they are all printed on the screen here. I must now go and sit. Sitting is the most interesting thing to do now that I cannot think. When I get bored of that, perhaps I’ll stand. After that, I’ll go out and move some dirt from one end of my backyard to the other. Yeah, that sounds like a really good idea. I must be off.