1/29/07
I must say, I lead a boring life. What’s the point of keeping a daily journal if nothing separates the days? Why keep a log if my metaphoric ship is in the metaphoric doldrums? Oh, that’s right! It’s an English assignment.
Today, I met the love of my life. She is a kleptomaniac. Yes, sir, she steals things uncontrollably. Today, it was five pencils, a book from a classmate, and my heart.
Not only does she deny society’s approval in that manner, but she is a manic jaywalker. It rubs against her grain to use a crosswalk. Such a bad girl, my love.
Helen of Troy may have been beautiful enough to start a buch of guys killing each other, but can she boast having stopped umpteen cavalcades in as many minutes? Nay, sir, I think not.
In conclusion (I hate this line you tell us to use), my life has been changed this day.
Alright, Mr. Schafer. You asked me to write a journal. Never once did you say it had to be true. Just be grateful I care enough to keep it free of pizza stains.