You guys can go ahead and congratulate me, I passed my school bus driving test. I feel as good as someone who just won a free Coke from 7-Eleven. Any day now I’ll be receiving my new [commercial] Class B license and school bus certificate in the mail. Yup, I have been officially certified as someone who can safely transport young lives to and fro. The responsibility is practically crushing.
These past two weeks have been a little rough on me though.
First of all, it’s hot as fuck. Normally, I don’t mind the heat. I can function pretty well in it. But for some reason our apartment is now doubling as a sauna, and no matter how high we turn up the A/C it just doesn’t cut it. So that sucks and it also screws up my rest. I don’t know about you guys, but I take my sleepy time very seriously. I think all lazy people do.
More complaints and inane ramblings...
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God, he drives slow. Amanda glanced at Dave from the passenger seat and made a face. Why hadn’t she noticed his annoying driving skills before? Just how blind had she been this past year? Fuck! I doubt he’s ever driven faster than 50mph.
“Do you ever drive faster than 50? People keep going around because you aren’t going fast enough.”
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Every now and then I mention my mom. Sometimes I speak of her in comments on other blogs or sometimes in the posts written here. You all know we were close, so close I considered her my best friend. I know when someone is dead, you should probably start referring to them in the past tense, but I forget a lot of the time. It’s weird to refer to her like that, you know? She was my mom. I swear, sometimes I feel like she’s on vacation somewhere and will be back as soon as she can. Whenever something insanely funny happens, I often think: Damn, mom would think this is hilarious. I should call her… And of course right after that is: “Fuck, I’m broke. I wish mom were still here, she’d loan us some dough…
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