With only 25 days left of summer before school starts, I find myself gradually becoming more anxious. It’s as if junior year is some sort of sadist tiptoeing its way closer to me, and constantly screaming, “Stress! Yes, stress even more!”
I can’t even make it through a day without counting how many days left until I have to face the new school year. At a time like this, I think it’s appropriate for me to generate another word and amuse myself. Without further ado, this week’s word: precious.
A majority of my close friends know that I don’t post on social media often. Social media is pretty much just a place for me to stalk my friends and entertain myself. However, when I do decide to post something, almost 99% of the time, it’s of my bastard of a cat, Shadow. I would write a whole page about him if I could, but even I know how bored people get when I talk about him so much. If you couldn’t tell, this cat, as cheesy as it is, is precious to me, and that’s why I decided to draw shadow booping his nose on my finger because that’s something he likes to do.
I still remember one time, when my dad was sorting my clothes to do the laundry, he found something interesting in my the pocket of my jacket. He pulled me aside and opened his hand to reveal little pebbles of poop. He then whispered, “I’m not going to judge you, but can you explain to me why you decided to poop and then put it in your pocket?” I stared at him for a whole minute in disbelief. Never would I have thought that my dad would think I pocket my own poop. He didn’t even think the cat may be the culprit, he just automatically assumed it was me! Well, the joke’s on you, dad, because that was the cat’s poop, not mine. Shadow most likely released bowels in my laundry basket because he couldn’t open the door and go to his litter box. His poop just so happens to land into my pocket. Don’t worry dad, your daughter is smart enough to not hold onto her own poop.
The quality of something being “precious” is, to me, subjective. People value different things based on their morals and their situation in the moment. For the little guy in my piece, the wasteland that he calls “home” is devoid of life, so plant life is considered precious.
Being the normal, logical person I am, my mind immediately thinks of Gollum from Lord of the Rings. Well, here’s my interpretation of how he looks, based on the vague descriptions the book provides, which is obviously heavily influenced by the movie’s depiction of Gollum.
For the millionth time, school is starting, and I don’t have time to dilly-dally anymore. I’m going to get my butt back to studying now. Hope you enjoyed this post, you precious little thing. See you next stress.
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