Yesterday, as I stood in the express check-out line at the grocery store, a fight broke out. I stood there with my bag of Coffee Crisp, marshmallow cream, and cupcake liners as five women began yelling at each other.
The express check-out cash register was broken, and so the line slowed to a stand-still. Right beside the line was a booth where they sold lottery tickets.
All my friends are getting their driver’s licenses. I’m not. You could say that I’m a rebel of sorts. I’m a bit strange like that… although a lot of my friends are rushing to do their driving tests I stay at home sleeping, baking, eating. You know, living.
My parents though are pushing me to start the process of getting a driver’s license (here, in Ontario, there is a graduated licensing program). Why would anyone want to drive though when they can get chauffeured?
My teeth are pretty straight; I mean they’re not that bad. Nevertheless, a few days ago, I was brought to the orthodontist and was told that I was getting braces. Great. Braces sure are perfect for high school. After all, all the cool kids have braces. I was going to be a cool kid.
