Draco dormiens nunquam titillandus - Never tickle a sleeping dragon

Tasklist:
English
a.project (due March...10?)
- costume design for on character from R&J (half finished)
- Capulet and Montague's coat of arms (still drafting)
- a postcard
- a dialogue of Spongebob and Patrick talking in Shakespeare's language
b.written composition (due March 9)
c. test (March 8)

AP Misc.
a. newsdiary (due March 10) a. Ate Joanne's sketch
b. test (March 8) b. buy graphing paper

Oral English
a. monologue (for Monday)

CLE
a. oral reporting (Monday)

Algebra
a. assignment - p.244 # 43-48 on graphing paper

Science
a. test (March 7)

Filipino
a. test (March 11)
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SUCH A LOT TO DO!!! Wai! And I'm sure I've left something out... Thoughts are slipping through my mind like water. I can't remember what I was going to write about. The number of tasks is rather overwhelming. And I take so long in doing my artsy projects. So little time to do everything. I've been thinking about them for weeks now but still not doing anything. Oh well. It's already Saturday morning. I should go to sleep now. I've got piano lessons later in the afternoon . Weirdly enough, it's only when I go to my piano lessons that I feel awkwardly stupid about things. My teacher once asked me what key was the piece I was assigned to play. I answered "E." And she was like "E what?" Confused, I replied "E what, what?" Turns out the correct answer to that question was E major. And then she spent the rest of the time teaching me how to build chords, all the while I was struggling to comprehend why I couldn't answer that simple question. It was like staring into a blank wall, and then vainly clawing the air to find the answer. It makes me realize how little I know of music, how incomplete the lessons are in school, how useless and incompetent my music teacher was back in gradeschool and how grateful I am that my highschool music teacher is very capable of teaching and motivating us.

I had a really freaky dream about three nights ago. It must've come from reading Romeo and Juliet. I remember that it started with my sister chasing me all over the house, trying to convince me to marry some stranger. I petulantly refused. But she was pushing and coaxing me so hard, I agreed if only I had the assurance that it was someone worth it. "Oh yes, he's tall and he looks alright." she said. So I gave my yes, only to find out the wedding was later that night. If the preparations had been done properly, I don't think my dream version of me would have minded so much. But it was the saddest, ugliest, and most horribly unromantic thing ever. Might as well go to my funeral. I didn't even have a damned wedding dress, nor make-up nor my hair done nor flowers even. I think I wore an long drab yellow skirt that was ancient and just a shirt to go with it. The church aisle was very long, giving me plenty of time, so I asked someone on what year the groom was born in. That person said "Around the 1940s I think." If it had been real, I would've screamed my head off but the answer so stunned me that I couldn't speak. I think I numbly continued walking down, feeling the looming sense of doom growing larger and larger. Fortunately at that point, I woke up, thanks to my handy-dandy alarm clock, and got ready to go to school.