Bumps and Bruises...groan...

Half the school is unable to walk this week. Including me. Spring sports just started Monday, and brilliant me picked soccer.

I am officially an idiot.

The whole first practice all of us were moaning about how out of shape we were, and coach telling us to go faster. All the girl's had on short little...well, shorts, and were complaining about how they looked so blobby, while I'm over in my corner of the room changing into my bulky tennis shorts, and just being...big. They are all so tiny! It's amazing! I just stand there and tower over them all, so it seems like I'm taking up way more than my fair share of the bathroom. Actual practice...torture. Walking home...beyond that.

Day Two: So sore, that I yelp in pain everytime I take a step. Which, unfortunately, you have to do a lot. I was really annoyed on tuesday, because I hurt so much and everyone else was fine.

Day Three: I went to school late because I couldn't get out of bed. Literally. My mom had to pretty much drag me to the bathroom to take a hot shower, and made me stretch for half an hour so I could move slightly. I hobbled around the first half of the day, and by gym, Mr. DePriest (the guy's soccer coach, poor them) noticed that I wasn't er...exactly mobile. So he gave me a yoga mat and I got to stretch more while everyone else had to play volleyball. And after practice, Mr. Ward gave me a ride home, because Joe's on the guy's team. I spent the whole ride back with a dog on my lap, because he brought the small car, but OH WELL. The paw print in my thigh didn't exactly make my battered legs feel any better, but I survived.

Day Four: I COULD ACTUALLY MOVE!!!! WHOOO!!! And now all those other girls who had been fine couldn't move, and I could! SCORE!!! And we shot goals, and I only missed one! And the coach was actually watcing. Anna, when does that EVER happen?

But then I got home. And it sucked. Because I hate living with my dad. My brother and I were trying to do our homework and THEN chores, because homework is slightly more important, and he comes home, sees the house, and starts freaking out. We made a new system that everybody has to do a different room every week, and it was his day to do the dishes right? So he gets all mad because of how many there are, blames it on us, and says we have to do his chore because it's all our fault, and blah blah blah. And then my mom comes home from school while he's screaming at us, and yells at him, so he gets all mad and hides in his room. Later, he tried to come in and, I don't know, apologize, but he's got to stop thinking he can do whatever he wants and then we'll forgive him the moment he comes back. That might sound mean, but he does this all the time! I don't ever want to be at the house anymore, and that's one of the reasons it's such a relief when the Ward's invite me over. Though I love going over there of course. Heh.

Today: No more soreness on my part, though poor Adam and Jacob can't even bend over. They chose track, and tried to get me to do it to. They run less than we do! We have to scrimmage the boy's team today, and they'll cream us probably, because they do work a bit harder. Mr. DePriest had them strapped up to harnesses and sprinting whie dragging tires behind them. We just laughed while we stood there heading the ball back and forth. We have practice on Saturday too, at 10 in the morning. fun fun fun...

I have an A in math again, so that one horrible test and quiz are all fixed. Thank God. I'm starting to get skinnier, so maybe my mom will actually let me get a good looking swimsuit this year. And nikki, that one pair of blue shorts of yours with the white stripe down the sides fit me, so I'm using those instead of my tennis shorts. Your never getting those back, just so you know.