I should be sleeping, but I am far too shaken by the day’s occurrences.
To say that I had an odd day is an understatement.
To say that today was the strangest day I’ve experienced in a long, long time is an understatement.
Yesterday I had a conversation with God in regards to my burning desire to get into the university of my choice. When questioned by my mother if I was planning on attending church, I told her that it was a definite possibility. I was feeling slightly guilty for asking God favours, so I felt morally obligated attend church this fine morning.
I got caught up in work last night, and didn’t end up calling it a night until the wee hours of the morning. I drowsily informed my mother that I might pass up church this morning, as I was tremendously tired. For some reason I cannot quite explain, I awoke naturally at nine thirty this morning; a mere five or so hours after I initially fell asleep.
Debating whether or not to turn over and drift asleep again, I ultimately decided that this must have been some sort of act of God himself, requesting my presence in church today. I would have undoubtedly felt guilty if I were to ignore this blatant sign.
So I dragged my ass out of bed, and informed my elated mother that I was going to attend church after all. I went to church and thoroughly enjoyed mass.
The rest of the day progressed as it should. It wasn’t until after dinner that Tammy and I decided to take the dogs out for a walk.
I normally encourage the walking of dogs on a leash, though I do admit to occasionally taking my dogs to an off leash park. Taboo, I know. Today Tammy and I opted to go to the off leash park.
Sally, as her nickname suggests, is deemed my clever companion. She obeys me always and learns tricks much faster than any dog I have encountered thus far. When we are strolling in an area not frequented by other dogs, Sally is the only dog that we trust enough to allow off leash. She never strays more than three feet from us and has a rock-solid recall.
Today as we sauntered through the park, Sally did something that shocked Tammy and I both beyond comprehension; she made a b-line for the river. Sally immediately, much to our astonishment and horror, proceeded to jump in. Things were prograssing far too quickly for me to properly process. First of all, we were not walking along the river; Sally simply ran to the river. Secondly, Sally DETESTS water. She absolutely loathes it, so much so that she categorically refuses to swim in water with a depth that extends beyond her ankles. Why she decided to simply jump in is beyond me. I have no fucking clue.
The current began to sweep her away, despite her constant efforts to doggy paddle. I tossed my cell phone aside with a blatant disregard for its preservation, and immediately darted after my drifting dog. I ran much faster than I knew I was capable of, and even managed to effectively run ahead of Sally. Seeing me at the side of the river, Sally attempted to drift in my direction. I immediately went in and managed to get a grip of her collar and bring her to shore. My heart felt as though it was going to beat out my chest, I undeniably aged a few years in those brief seconds.
Thankfully, Sally was perfectly fine, though visibly shaken from the ordeal. What caused her spur-of-the-moment decision to go for a dip? I do not know. It was so, extremely out of character that I froze for a split-second. I still do not understand. Perhaps this is evidence of Sally becoming the canine-equivalent to senile? A vet visit will be arranged tomorrow.
Needless to say, I am eternally thankful for the well-being of my best dog. My clever companion. Though she, nor Seamus, will enjoy the pleasure of being off leash again for the foreseeable future.
I cannot express it enough; do not let your dogs off leash. No matter how confident you may feel. I was stupid enough to do so, and today could have easily ended in tragedy. I resume due blame, as it was completely my fault. Though I have thankfully learnt from the situation.
Following this frightening occurrence, Tammy and I decided to immediately return home. As we were walking, my iPod must have fallen out of my pocket, completely unbeknownst to me. As I arrived home, I noticed that my iPod was amiss, and retraced my steps up the street to no avail. I called Tammy and questioned her of my iPod’s whereabouts, though she was as clueless as I.
We searched up and down the street, and Tammy fortunately spotted it sitting directly in the middle of the sidewalk, much further up the street than I anticipated. Many passersby walked the street, though surprisingly enough, the iPod was left untouched.
I nearly lost my dog, though she was miraculously spared. I nearly lost my iPod, though it was quickly retrieved. Today could have been far, far worse than it was, though I can hardly put losing my dog and losing my iPod in the same category.
I personally believe that God was genuinely on my side today. It was a damn good thing that I decided to attend church.
God, I am eternally grateful. I must have done something right after all.
All day I’ve been reviewing my plans for university. Sure, I know which university I wish to attend. Sure, I know which programs I am interested in taking. But there is more to it than that. So much more.
Today I vigorously flipped through a book that I stole borrowed permissibly from the guidance office. Said book contains an abundance of information on my university of choice. This school contains one of the most prestigious journalism programs in Canada, and because it is a smaller school, it can prove quite difficult to gain acceptance.
I have been scheming ways to get into this school, as if I’m not confident in my fluency in the English language. It seems that no matter how decent I am at a given subject, I never give myself due credit. So here I am, ceaselessly fretting about getting accepted into university, doubting my eloquency and ability to write, and planning like a fiend.
I have decided that instead of applying for three separate universities, I will apply for three different programs at my university of choice. My first option is, as my faithful readers are well aware, journalism. Gaining acceptance for journalism would make me happy as a clam. I will also apply for a bachelor of arts, radio and broadcasting, and perhaps social work. Time will tell.
Aside from my marks this year (which will be high, rest assured,) a separate portfolio containing samples of my writing is absolutely necessary. Several people have suggested submitting entries from this blog, but I find that concept rather inappropriate. This is more of a journal where I record my innermost thoughts and emotions, things that I do not necessarily wish to associate with school.
So given the immense importance of my portfolio (which weighs as much, if not more than, my marks,) I have decided to get articles published. Every month until the end of the school year, I will attempt to get at least one article published. I have to be proactive in order to accomplish anything in life, and this is of extreme importance. It is my future, after all.
If I get an article published I will receive an additional 10% in my writer’s craft course, which is also incentive. I have recently become involved in my school newspaper, and I have been completing homework upon its assignment.
I will have to be a nerd this year.
I don’t like onions. I hate that my breath currently smells like them.
School has, for the most part, been going quite well. There is not one class that I particularly dislike, though I fail to be elated about my coming band practise, but that is only to be expected of me.
Tomorrow is my English day and I’m actually quite looking forward to it.
In other news, I may be switching from the alto saxophone to the tenor saxophone. Outrageous, no?
Should it stay or should it go?
The first day of my senior year, however short, proved to be a success. My homeroom teacher seems awesome, and I’m feeling slightly better about committing to this university-level literature course. The real games commence tomorrow, and I’d be lying if I said that I wasn’t looking forward to it. I am admittedly eager to meet my other teachers.
I evidently possess an entire school day dedicated to the wondrous English language. In the morning I have literature followed by writer’s craft, and the afternoon brings English. This makes me happy.
English makes me happy.
Chemistry makes me unhappy, which is why I am forever content that I am done with it permanently.
I’m well aware that succumbing to slumber will only bring tomorrow that much sooner. I am not ready to deal with the anxiety that tomorrow will bring. It’s unbelievable to me that summer is really over.
Tomorrow is the dawn of my senior year.
I find it slightly amusing that mothers usually utter amongst themselves in amazement over their rapidly-aging children, and yet it is I who tries my damnedest to keep it together on the first day of school. HOW AM I NOT IN GRADE FOUR?
To my good friend Christina:
‘We will have at least one class together, despite our many timetable conflicts. And then we can sit beside each other, and make inappropriate sexual jokes all day long.’
