Teenage Musings

School resumed last Wednes- day morning. (Grumble.)

Don't get me wrong, I re- ally like school. I really like the teachers, the students, my classes, and the building itself. What I really don't like is how early it starts.

On Wednesday morning, I got up at seven after hav- ing slept in until ten for two weeks running. To make matters worse, it was freez- ing. Actually, it was below freezing.

After putting on a nice thick sweater and a pair of microfleece pants, I went outside to refill the waterer in the chicken house. Thinking myself smart, I had dumped it out the night before and left it on the sidewalk to which it was now frozen. Yes, you read that right, the watering bin was frozen to the sidewalk.

After kicking it loose (my toe hurts just thinking about that) and refilling it, I placed it in the chicken house and resumed getting ready for school.

School itself was mostly uneventful, with one out- standing exception.

First of all, on my way out to the band room for first period, I noticed a sign on the door that read as follows: "In the interest of security, this door is to remained locked at all times."

Well, fine, I thought. I'll get to the band room through the gym. Unfortunately, the door to the gym had a notice on it that read pretty much like this: "Archery unit in progress. Stay out."

Pushing on the "Interest of Security" door, I found that it opened, so I walked through there to get to first period.

Unfortunately, going from first period to second period, I (along with approximately ten other students) discovered that the 'Interest'door only opened from the inside. Knocking on said door, we finally got a few other students to open it for us. (After a little checking around, the band class was informed that the gym was safe in between periods. Whew!)

The rest of the day passed as usual. Except for lunch, that is. I eat my lunch in the commons. It's tolerable at first, but as more and more students enter the commons from outside, that door opens more and more often, and eventually that room is freezing. For this reason, I eat lunch in my marshmallow coat January through April.

After school, I went back through the "Interest" door to the band room for the weekly meeting of the Blue- grass Club.

My cousin, who lives in California but was still visit- ing for Christmas, showed up.

"Are you gonna jam?" I asked, remembering that she could play a little bit of guitar."

"Can't," she said. "My fingers are frozen."

It turned out that was because she had worn finger- less gloves on her walk to the meeting.

She had also neglected to bring a head covering of any sort and was wearing canvas shoes. Sheesh.

After the meeting (her fingers thawed out towards the end), we hitched a ride home, ate dinner, and went to our respective beds.

As I donned a thick flan- nel nightgown and buried myself in a thick layer of blankets, it suddenly oc- curred to me that I had for- gotten to dump the chickens' water out.

Which meant that the entire watering apparatus would be frozen solid and would need all day the next day to thaw out.

And there was absolutely no way I was going out into what was already sub-freez- ing weather in a nightgown to retrieve it.

I know what I want for Christmas this year: a backup waterer.