6:30 AM -- I wake up and turn to look at my alarm clock. Though I have only half an hour left of potential sleep, I bury my face into my pillow. This is known as "school denial."

7:05 AM -- My alarm clock goes off, or my mom shouts at me. I drag myself up, shivering, because I always fall asleep with my ceiling fan on. Stroke of genius. In the fog of just-waking-up, I shuffle/stumble to my closet and my dresser, grabbing clothes. It doesn't really matter what clothes I get, seeing as I don't know the definitions of the following words: style, match, appropriate. Just like any Type-A male, though I'll admit I take Type-A to practically Type-Caveman.

Is this matching?

7:08 AM -- Shower. I have to use about one bottle of shampoo today. There is probably some sort of obvious lesson to procure from that, but I apparently can't figure it out. Get out. Put on clothes (drying optional). Axe up. Brush teeth. Drag self outside to wait in the garage.

7:25 AM -- Mark arrives. Nobody wants to talk at seven in the morning. Silently, we go to Adolf Hitler Memorial High. At this point, my stomach is about to implode in hunger. If stomachs spoke English, it would be saying something along the lines of, "GRRASCHJSKDILBRAST!" And we're all glad stomachs don't speak English.

7:34 AM -- I grab breakfast, the four-year running "Twix and J" which is a Twix bar and a carton of orange juice. Cue you saying, "That sounds bad." Apparently, I don't care, or I would have stopped after the first time I tried it. Debbie, my hero, calls me "Mr. Nutrition," and we part ways.

7:38 AM -- First period, AP English. OK, Nate; you can do this.

7:45 AM -- First discussions of symbolism and feminism arise...mind begins to wander.

7:47 AM -- That desk sure is looking comfortable.

7:48 AM -- The arm is draped over the desk, the chin is rested on the arm, the eyelids start to have actual weight.

7:49 AM -- Drifting...

7:50 AM -- Sleep has won. Damn you, symbolism. You have defeated my will yet again. You might have won the battle, but...well, yeah, at this point I'm pretty sure you have won the war anyway.

Awakening from slumber.

8:34 AM -- The English teacher has not yelled at me. I like her. Yeah, I'm pretty easy to please.

8:42 AM -- Mark continues to talk about how he's going to drop Latin. I am hysterical, thinking about it. With a determined look on his face, he says, "I'm gonna do it. I can't take it anymore. Collier, come on. Drop it with me." Even I can't go that low.

8:46 AM -- Freedom! The bell has rung! Ah, wait. I have to go to fucking Latin. Slavery!

8:48 AM -- Mark stops in the middle of the hallway. "Guys...let's just not go to Latin." The Jun agrees right away, and they try to push me with them. My 'bad idea' sensors are going off. When I am the voice of reason, things have generally gone awry. They realize this and we walk to Latin, but that was a damn close call. I can't say that I wasn't dangerously close to turning back and roaming free, free of Latin vinculi. (Chains, for the uneducated).

8:52 AM -- Mark stands defiantly by the door of Latin IV. "Magistra, I need to go to Guidance," he says with little conviction and a face resembling cherry pie filling. Magistra (the teacher) stares him down and tells him he can't go during her class. This doesn't suit Mark, and his eyes lead directly into his thoughts. He wants to walk right out the door. He starts muttering, but trudges to his desk.

9:03 AM -- We are talking about some guy named Plautus. I'm 97% certain that I don't care about Plautus. Focusing on a spot on the blackboard, I drift into that zone that all bored students know and cherish.

9:58 AM -- The bell rings. Onward to AP Government. Stunning.

10:05 AM -- We are assigned some questions revolving around opinions on government. This is my type of shit. I complete them quickly, turning in the assignment for 25 out of 25. That boosts my grade to a stellar 25 out of 225 for the marking period. Yeah, plagiarism on all of my summer work. The sixteen year old version of myself would be panicking, but I don't know if my seventeen year old self even has a panic button.

10:17 AM -- I make an audible growl. I think someone might have heard my stomach shout, "GRRASCHJSKDILBRAST!" This pang of hunger is worse than any I have ever felt.

10:32 AM -- Chrono Trigger time. Chrono Trigger is a Super Nintendo game played with emulation on the computer. I'm pretty sure approximately half of my school day consists of playing some video game.

Productivity, baby. This is education.

11:10 AM -- Study hall. Study hall does not mean studying. It means copying the math homework as efficiently as possible and playing Chrono Trigger. Pimpin ain't easy, baby.

11:44 AM -- The Running of the Hungry Bulls begins. Myself and The Jun power walk to lunch, assuring ourselves a prime spot in line. Chicken nuggets, baby. The Lunch Code (coming later) dictates that this is an automatic triple lunch. Doris fills my tray ("I'll double ya!").

11:57 AM: -- I am done eating. Pain is setting in. Can I squeeze the cookies and the Powerade?

12:05 PM -- Squeezed. Bad idea.

12:20 PM -- Time to relieve myself. After that, I stroll to Ms. Baker's room. She has candy. She points out that I am supposed to be in Calculus. I concede the point, take the candy, and leave.

12:28 PM -- A little late for Calc, but she's just checking the homework. Mike Aldinger starts making fun of Mr. Kelly. I lose it. Nobody can ever figure out what's so funny when this happens, and I'm in no condition to explain myself. Fourth period brings out the absolute worst in me.

12:34 PM -- I start laughing as other memories of Mr. Kelly pop into my head. Some people probably think I'm fucking nuts, laughing aloud about seemingly nothing. Fourth period, my downfall.

12:45 PM -- We are at the board. Rackley hits Mark on the back with a blackboard eraser. The immaturity of the act combined with the immaturity of myself in fourth period is too much to handle. I bend over laughing; Mark can't even process what is happening. Another day in fourth period.

1:30 PM -- Finally, math ends, and I return to normal. Fifth period? It's interning, aka Video Games 101. 68 minutes of pure bliss follow.

2:42 PM -- The bell symbolizing a release from prison rings. There is a God.

3:05 PM -- I get home. Time to...ah. Tired. Very tired. I crawl into bed.

5:35 PM -- Energized. I get online or use my phone and attempt to make plans to eat. I don't really want to do anything else.

7:05 PM -- I arrive at a restaurant (hopefully Fire Mountain, the new buffet. You won't regret it if you go there).

8:30 PM -- I am done. We go home. Enola is fun.

8:50 PM -- I get online and play PartyPoker. I love poker. God, I love poker.

11:35 PM -- Perhaps it's time to go to sleep. I'll repeat the process tomorrow...