A Week Of VJM – Saturday September 26th, 2009

There’s nothig much to say about Saturday September 26th, 2009.

Saturday technically began as a continuation of the night before. As in, I went to sleep at three in the morning on Saturday. Prior to that, I likely downed half a party sized bag of nachos. I’m… I’m not really sure.

I woke up several hours later, at eleven, to my mom handing me the littler sis to take care of. The littler sis of which to take care. Reason number one of why I stay at the grandparents. Anyway, she hands me the toddler and says she’s going to make breakfast or something.

An hour and a half later, all out of things to give the baby to shake, I carry the child down and find my mom doing the laundry. I sit on the couch and wait.

It was about another twenty minutes till I was able to hand off the baby. Afterwords, I go onto the computer and begin transferring files onto my thumb-drive (one word? Two?) to later transfer onto the computer at my grandparents. At around two, dad wakes up and begins yelling at Mackenzie about something or other. Reason number two.

After all the files are done transferring, I upload all of the weeks photos onto Facebook and hide them. I would then spend the next week slowly releasing them to the public. While they were uploading, I began writing about Sunday.

‘Sunday September 20th, 2009,’ I began. When it was done, I scheduled it to come out on Monday, and then began writing about Monday.

For brunch, I eat the rest of the nacho party bag.

At around eight, I packed my freshly washed clothes back into my pack. My mom had told me that it was too dark to take the bus, but I reminded her that I had walked from work, several blocks, in the middle of the night, to a bus stop the previous week, twice. That seemed to convince her. She asked if I knew when the next bus was coming and I told her that me knowing when the bus would arrive wouldn’t make it come any sooner, nor was I in any hurry for anything. Besides, I wanted to minimize the time spent in close proximity to Yelly McGee in the next room, so I would have walked if I had too.

I walk out the door and down the drive way just in time to see my bus drive past.

Crap.

I walk to the bench and place my backpack beside me.

Suddenly a gang of about ten shifty looking teens in hoodies roll up to the bus stop. They stand off to the side and keep to themselves. I recognized one of them from the pier. They didn’t hassle me; if they did, they were kind enough not to tell me, and I arrived back at my grandparents house and turned on the computer.

And this is the way my week ends. Not with a bang but a whimper.