Quite an eventful week.

Wednesday night I slept not a wink. My death-flu had denied me adequate air way. So, I staryed up, played video games, and watched old movies. ("Westward Passage" Very old movie with a 23 year old Laurence Olivier in it. I liked it. I'd like to see it again, but Barnes and Noble didn't seem to have it online. Ahh well.) At 5 am I ate a larger than usual breakfast in the hopes that it would keep me going the whole day, and went to school at 8.

It was Thursday. Almost all of the seniors were gone. Conseqently, half the school was missing, leaving us with 20 students (I go to a *very* small school). I was dismayed to find that one of my good friends had had his last day the day before. He's 15 and is graduating from highschool. I suppose if I had gone to my school since elementary, I'd have graduated at 15, too. (That's certainly not to say that he's not extremely intelligent.) By second period, I was just about ready to throw myself off a cliff. Lack of sleep and unyeilding illness had overcome me, and I went home. Chicken soup and sleep.

Glad I went to graduation. So much to say about it. No words. Maybe another time.

In the middle of a four day weekend. Thank Gord. Still much to finish at school and an ever dwindling amount of time to do it in. It will get done, of course, I'm just feeling less and less like doing it.