Dispatches from the frontiers of middle school.  My 14-year-old guest blogger recounts her first day back.

Dearest Diary,

The first day of eighth grade.  I thought it would be magical.  I would be gorgeous, all my friends would praise me, I would be adored by all. To say the least,  it sucked. I have only ONE class with my best friend. I wish I could say that I’m so smart, beautiful and could just run off with another friend and be just as happy. Not happening. I’m shy and shielded without her. I hide under my books and slouch in my seat. So smart can be counted out of the equation, so can being popular.

Well I spent weeks upon weeks picking my outfit out for the first day of school. However, since there are so many perverted guys in my grade, I decided to change my clothes this morning. My hair didn’t turn out the way I needed it too, and I was too stressed. After being tortured through class, I went home. I was complaining to my mother in the car about how sitting in one of my classes was like watching a turtle move. When she turned to me and yelled, “YOU JUST HAVE TO LOOK AT THE BRIGHT SIDE!”

That was problem, I had been looking at the bright side and I was pulling out only negatives.   And I already have homework.  They give me homework on the first day of school, when I don’t even know anything yet.  While I complain about that, my mom says, “The teachers are just keeping your brain working.” So now I’m googling math problems and seeing how to work them, so I can learn something. I know my mom would be angry, but she doesn’t get it — and neither do I.  My homework that is. So I must go diary, because I have plenty more work to do, and my partial social life to keep up.

Much love and yours truly, Breanna

Breanna “loves writing, reading, animals, helping others, and singing.”  She says “Thank you for taking time to read this.”

Share/Bookmark