Good Morning Special People

Here's a new one. Today i'm "too special to get off my ass and help out around here."The not new part, it's 12:30 pm. It's Saturday. I'm in my room working on an English paper and I get yelled at for not running the vacuum cleaner yet--after my step mother has already done it. She won't tell me to do it now or in a minute, but instead does it, then complains about 'having to do it' and yells at me for not having already done it early on a Saturdya morning. This is deffinately the start of a great weekend.

Coming of Age

In addition to my history project, running the vacuum every day, cleaning
the bathroom on Thursdays, doing all other homework on time and very well [ ;) ], cleaning/setting table every night, taking trash out to the curb on trash
night, washing or drying dishes every night, doing my laundry every Monday,
making sure grandma takes showers and takes her pills on time, and getting in
and out of the shower myself before anyone comes home, I now have to add
the task of managing not to kill my biology teacher who throws the blame of her
student's failure and/or inadequate scores on tests and in the class, upon the
shoulders on those who she is--what she calls--teaching.
-Yes, this is a biscotti evening (:

Storm, Part I

Today I've managed to get in trouble for doing a biology project and studying biology instead of vacuuming the house and sweeping the basement steps down by 11:30AM. <--- on a snow day. I'm wondering if that's incredibly crazy or if I really should have just jumped up and done it or apologized (for a second time) for being such a huge disappointment for not doing chores on my day off (theirs too) before noon.
A poem I really like:
Battle Won Is Lost
They said, "You are no longer a lad."
I nodded.
They said, "Enter the council lodge."
I sat.
They said, "Our lands are at stake."
I scowled.
They said, "we are at war."
I hated.
They said, "Prepare red war symbols."
I painted.
They said, "Count coups."
I scalped.
They said, "You'll see friends die."
I cringed.
They said, "Desperate warriors fight best."
I charged.
They said, "Some will be wounded."
I bled.
They said, "To die is glorious."
They lied.
By Phil George