Too Much?

This is the third journal in one day. A new record, I must say. And absolutely flattering, seeing as I haven't had so many journals this year so far. Nine as a maximum in January and an average of, what, two? But this journal ain't gonna be long. I'm dog-tired. Why? Explain:

So today was the first field hockey practice. Real one, and not just those hour and a half skills sessions. This was the real deal, three hours long. Started at five and ended at six. Started at five? Huh, yeah, guess it did. My brain's all fuzzy from tiredness. But we didn't really start 'till quarter after five because some people (me included) still had to get their shin guards, socks and cleats on. If I had of known what I needed to wear, I would have worn them, but I was all confuzzled.

And that confusion is why I was kind of freaking out today. Which might explain all the journals. I was--I didn't know what to expect and I was--yeah. So I wasn't able to get any role playing done today and I didn't do very much. Seemed like I was busy all day, but I didn't do anything besides go to the library and practice. I dunno, then.

Cucumbers are good before a practice. Remember that, me.

Practice, then, we jogged a few times around the field, stretched a lot, sprinted a lot, did a few more without-stick exercises. And then when we got our sticks out, then we did what I can best describe as stairs without the raised surface for a very long time. I wish I knew exactly how long. And we did pulls and yard sticks and loose dribbles and controlled dribbles up and down the field a few times. That all was okay, except maybe the steps. Then we sat down a bunch of times to listen to the coaches and the rules of the game and stuff, but at the very end we had to sprint from one side of the field to the other six times in seventy seconds. I was able to get five of them done in the seventy seconds, and the last one I think I was just doing my normal jog because I couldn't get myself to go any faster.

I'm tired. So tired that I couldn't finish watching So You Think You Can Dance. And Kent made it to the top three. I knew he would, but it's still awesome. But Lauren's awesome, too. Robert I could care less about, but I do like Kent and Lauren.

I'm tired. Friedman called during SYTYCD and I already forgot what we were talking about. But what he says kinda . . . unnerves me. Well, not that, but it's a little unsettling. Not really, but--don't ever ask me to describe what I feel. For some reason I just can't do it. I feel, like, three things at a time, and sometimes they conflict. It doesn't make any sense, but I find Deadpool more understandable than Gambit. I dunno if that's normal, either, but I find it weird. I mean, Deadpool's the whack-job. Gambit's at least semi-normal.

I'm tired. And it's weird to say it, but I want to talk to Henry. In fact, I'm going to call him, just not tonight. I want to talk to him. I want to hold a conversation with him, one which he can't just drop because he doesn't want to type anymore (at least, I think that's what happens--I dunno; our chat convos don't ever really go very far). He is one of my closest friends. Gillis is, Kyra is, Moron (jk, Amy) is, Alyssa is, but so is Henry. He has been ever since eighth grade. I never told him it, but although he annoyed me to the point of wanting to hurt him in seventh grade, I always wanted to sit next to him in eighth grade and talk to him. I kind of stung when he went off with other people. I never have been able to make friends (my age--younger is a different story, even though they still all know I'm weird) very easily, or talk so freely in classes. Maybe it was just because he was my friend that I wanted him to be always at my table in English class, but I dunno.

*sigh*

And I still sort of feel that way. Before and after school, when everyone groups around inside or out, I want to talk to him, even if we don't really have anything new or at all to talk about.

So . . . I'm going to call him. He said on some quiz (whoo-hoo, quiz *twirls finger*) that he wouldn't be surprised if I randomly called him up, and although I was surprised at that answer, it still made me happy. He's still my friend, even if we're not as close as we used to be. So I'm going to call him.

And I know I've said that a few times already.

I'm tired.

Guess I should go and try to take a shower without falling asleep and then finishing this comic I have open, and then go to bed. Maybe I could get these shin guard marks off of my skin. I have STX imprinted in my shin. I'm branded.

Good-night, then.