My feet hurt worse today than any other day this week. I’m not sure why; I mean, they almost always hurt at least a little bit, but today was just a little bit more. Half the time I say anything about my feet, I feel like I’m complaining too much, but believe me, it’s with reason.

Of course today just had to be the day where I couldn’t find a ride home.

I walked extremely slow up the hill, not because of my feet, but because of my books. The reason I don’t have a backpack is because I don’t use my locker. The door doesn’t shut all the way, and even in a school as “good” as ours, things got stolen all the time.

So because I didn’t have a bag, every couple of steps, the little book on the top of my pile, Animal Farm, would fall onto the ground and I’d have to bend down and pick it up. Eventually, I crammed it into my overstufed purse.

At least I didn’t have to take my saxophone home today. That would be torture.

It didn’t help that I forgot my coat in the middle of November.

Only two more miles.