In Class ExercisesMorning Routines:My eyes drool as a response of my 5:30 alarm. I can smell the coffee brewing, another casual morning reminder that I did not get enough sleep. I lay, curled up in the darkness of my room for another 8 minutes, thinking of every way I could turn my life around. I’ve played the same game with myself for months now, picking out minute details of mylife and exaggerating them. I always start from the age of 12 and work progressively to the age of 26, making sure to deeply regret the life decisions I’ve made that got me to where I am now. I groan a little more as I drop my feet from the comfort of my bed to the cold wooden floors of my room and shuffle them along to the kitchen. The coffee is as lukewarm as the weather by the time I drink it, another reminder that nothing in my life is fresh and warm. I reach for a handful of almonds, the only solid food my stomach can handle in the mornings.Brushing my teeth and getting dressed becomes a blur of tedious motions, the kind of repetition done day after day that makes me wonder if I’m living my life to the fullest. I wake up every morning hoping that something will change but nothing ever does. I glance down at my watch and realize that I’m going to be late, something I wouldn’t be ifI didn’t lay in bed for an extra 8 minutes, but it’s the only me time I’ve got. I walk as slow as ever out of my room, and every morning, right before I close my front door, I take one last glance at my apartment to look back at the mess. The carpets undone and there’s dirty dishes all over the place. I sigh in defeat and head off to work.Flashback:I reach for a handful of almonds, the only solid food my stomach can handle in the mornings and remember the spurious connection they had with me moving out 6 months ago.“You love your fucking almonds so much, fine, take them!” Helen threw a handful of them at my face and like little pebbles hitting a lake, there was a ripple effect. Maybe I should lose some weight.I sigh and whisper, a little harshly. “This isn’t about the almonds Helen, but about the fact that you keep eating all my food!”Helen threw her hands up and let out a long, aggravated sigh and in anger, threw the entire bag of almonds on the ground.“This roommate-ship is over! The second our lease ends, I’m moving out!” She promised, loudly.I snorted in her face and responded just as loud “Maybe I’ll finally get to eat my fucking almonds!”Dialogue:The weekend before homecoming was the busiest weekend for Brittany. Cheers had to belearned, banners had to be made, and projects had to be turned in. Taking a break in the locker room, she sighed as she tied her shoes. As she got up to leave, she smelled something awful and that’s when everything changed.“Watch where you’re going you missed abortion!” Deandra shouted as she walked out of the locker room. It had seemed that Brittany had been waiting for her.Tapping her foot, Brittany smiled. “Do you know what the locker room smells like Deandra?” Brittany looked at the people around her as she spoke. “It smells like expired Chipotle. Do you happen to know anything about that?” Brittany kept her smile as she turned her head and stared Deandra.Deandra’s voice wavered a bit when she answered. “I wouldn’t know anything about thatBitchany. I’m a vegetarian.” Deandra’s arm extended and pushed Brittany out of the way.“Now get out of my way!” Deandra yelled as she was walking away.A crowd had gathered around them now, making it harder for Deandra to leave.“You’re right Deanderthal, what I smelled was way worse than Chipotle, but that couldn’t have been you. It kind of reminded me of the 4th grade stink bomb in Ms. Newberry’s class.” Brittany’s arms were folded in, a smile still plastered on her face. She got closer to Deandra with every word she spoke, until eventually they were only inches apart. She uncrossed her arms and poked Deandra. “Didn’t you also not have Chipotle that day?” Brittany said.Deandra was seething. The best she could do was grind her teeth and shake her head.“If you poke me one more time, my fist will poke your face.” Deandra said quietly through her teeth. She brought her right knuckle up as visual and as if to prove a point, lightly touched Brittany’s nose.“Maybe I’m remembering wrong. Sorry to bring that up.” Brittany was still smiling but this time her hands were resting on her thighs.“Whatever loser. Enjoy your bald spot.” Deandra spat out. She was aggravated with her knuckles going white from holding back. Pushing someone out of the way, Deandra finally left with Brittany still smiling behind her.Describing peanuts and flowers:Peanuts: The outer texture of skin is rough and frail, so easily broken by a flick of pressure. The calloused exterior, when ripped apart, looks like nothing more than flattened bubble wrap, merely protecting the inner stone. Inside its cocoon, the nut is waiting to be emerged so it can begin the mating ritual between him and the outside world. If what’s inside the shell is a smooth, monochromatic color, it will be chosen. Only the visually pleasing nuts will be chosen to fulfill their duties while the others will be discarded without anymore than a second thought. While the outside layer is curvaceous, calling for sensuality, the inside is plump, containing not one, but two options for you to consider. The favoritism ends when the last one is eaten, a clear sign ofa happy peanut picker.Flowers: Soft to the touch and vibrant to the eyes, the petals twirl around like a skirt on a windy day. The pulsating colors bring life into my hands as I slowly feel the supple quality of their petals. They bring a slight fuzzy tickle to my fingers as I watch the greencenter in contrast to the yellow of what surrounds it. The center is comprised of at least 3 different greens, all blending in together to make one cohesive bond. Almost like a defense mechanism, the flower’s limbs are soft on the outside, but a little rough on the inside, as though not quite yet shaped by nature. For a moment, I wonder if flowers can sweat because this one is sparkling ever so slightly, and if they can sweat, I wonder if maybe I’m not holding a vampire/flower hybrid. First Sentences:The day of Blair’s 17th birthday was simultaneously the worst and the best day of her life.I could feel the anger seething from my teeth as I curl up my hand, getting ready
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