3rd Marking Period, 1st Article

THE PRODUCT OF A SNOWSTORM

What, I ask you, is a girl supposed to do on the sixth day of a snowstorm when she cannot safely leave her house? There can be many answers to this question, many productive, and not all legal.

So let me rephrase the question: What is a girl to do on the sixth day of a snowstorm that wouldn’t have the cops beating down her door? That’s better. You couldn’t possibly answer that question with something illegal.... unless you added “and not get caught” to the end, I suppose... You know what, let’s move on. I could spend hours phrasing the question differently and there would still be ways to answer it illegally.

Needless to say, I was stuck inside today with nothing to do. I tried aimlessly wandering my house, but I soon grew bored of that when my parents found me and tried to get me to do something productive. How absurd. Productivity would simply not do on a snow day.

Then I tried getting something to eat. I opened the fridge, saw nothing I wanted, opened the pantry, and, again, saw nothing I wanted. I tried the fridge again, hopeful that something new would have magically appeared since the last time I looked. Much to my surprise, I still saw nothing I wanted. Shocking? I think so.

It was then that I realized I was out of ideas. So I figured, hey, maybe my brother Collin will know what to do! I found him in front of the TV and proceeded to sit on him until he answered me. I may not seem big, but 100 pounds on a 75 pound boy can do some major damage on a long-term scale.

He said that I needed to get off of him immediately or suffer the consequences. In all honesty, I was scared of my 12 year old brother. I was also scared of whatever “the consequences” were, so I left him alone, disappointed and still bored.

Do you know those little boxes that your mouse can make on your computer desktop? They are the answer to the imaginatively bankrupt, and I was making those boxes for at least half an hour. Now, in my defense, it’s a very addicting activity.

After making boxes, I had an epiphany, if you will. I would make a blog! It would take up at least an hour of my time and it was legal. Brilliance, right?

So a blog is the end product of hours of boredom on a snow day. I hope you’re happy, Collin, for not giving me anything better to do. That disaster is all your fault. I love you. Maybe.