One day before I leave on my school's week-long trip. It's gonna be awesome.

I'm sick. I really hope we get a snow day tomorrow; taking the hardest classes means you don't want to miss a day. Being sick is like diving into a swimming-pool full of hammers.

If I did half the things I wanted to do, I'd be better off. But I don't. At times, I just don't know what I want to do, or what type of person I am. I'm fairly certain that I could excel in whatever field I choose, but I don't know which to decide upon, and the clock is ticking. Slowly, every minute passes, including the ones that I should be using RIGHT NOW to do my science fair report. But I procrastinate and hesitate, and the world will be worse off for it. Can I accept that?