Attempting to define an emotion is like playing a violin with a carrot. It’s possible, but it’s not always spot on. Anyway, I wouldn’t want to write this entry like a paper for uni as much as possible.
Let me tell you how my day started. I woke up from a dream that got me all shaken up; as I recall, I was getting late for my first class. As I sat up on my bed, I realised, “It’s a Saturday. I hate myself.” I peered over my shoulder and glanced at the clock. 8:00, it tells me. I slept for 8 hours, two-days-in-a-row! That’s a luxury I would love to have. Oh, if only I could. I gave the clock a little smile and looked out the window. “Well, isn’t the sun shining ever so pleasantly this day. It’s probably going to be a good day.” I decided that I’d take a picture of how the trees were looking inexplicably beautiful.
As I came down the stairs with my camera at hand, my mum was at her laptop. She was probably chatting with some of her friends on Facebook (as she always does.) She told me to get the laundry before she left for the gym. “Okay,” I said.