Alas! Why must irony dominate and reign over my life? Ever since I began to listen to my MP3 player, I’ve been on the prowl for AAA batteries. We hardly ever use AAAs, so there were none to be found. I had to go buy some, which was no fun, no fun at all. Well, yesterday after taking pictures of the new house, I come home to post them to see that the battery died just barely before I emptied the pictures onto the computer. One half-full AA would allow me to post them, so I’ve been searching madly since last night. And what have I found?

13 AAA batteries, I kid you not. Of all different colors, shapes and sizes (well, I suppose they’re all the same shape and size, considering they’re AAA batteries). 13!!! I couldn’t find one last week to save my life, and now 13 pop out of nowhere just to mock me! Just to taunt me and say “we can’t help you!! Haahhahahha!” Look! They’re pointing their non-existent fingers at me and laughing mercilessly. Why, oh why?

So I can’t show post pictures of the house like I promised Daddy and Jane that I would. I simply can’t. The world hates me and is conspiring against me, see.

So I suppose I’ll ramble about something else for the time being. Why don’t we chat about the argument mum and I had today, i.e. the reason I’m at home surfing as opposed to working on the house. She won’t let me sleep in past eight, which is ridiculous because it’s the summer and half my acquaintances are now technically viewed as nocturnal creatures. All I’m asking for is 9 o clock. That’s all I want, and she won’t give it to me. Apparently that’s a “wrong” lifestyle. Not different, not unhealthy, just wrong. I had to fight this sordid injustice somehow, so I turned the drum sander off, placed it on the floor, and came home. While eating a generic brand rip off of cocoa puffs that tasted remarkably like dog food, I decided I must battle this. I’m not sure how, but I have many options, which go as follows:

1.) I could always just refuse to lift a finger until I achieve my goal and attain the 9 o’ clock right. I won’t sand, varnish, scrub, sweep, edge, sterilize, or speak audibly until those in the house I’m currently dwelling in respect my right to remain unconscious until 9 o’ clock

2.) Hunger strike- I’d lose a couple pounds (the exact number depending on mum’s intractability, of course) and I’m bound to get publicity. “GIRL REFUSES TO EAT UNTIL ALLOWED TO SLEEP IN”. Would you look at that headline? Classic, I tell you.

3.) There’s always the option of ignoring Gandhi’s way of doing things (nonviolent resistance my foot) and choose to follow Stalin or Hitler’s approach. “MILLIONS SLAUGHTERED DOWNTOWN WHILE MOTHER HOLDS STRONG”. Pretty intimidating, huh? A plethora of possible headlines face us, my friends, each more menacing than the next. “PARENTS OF MASSACRED CHILDREN BEG MOTHER TO CAVE” or better yet “TEENAGE GIRL RECRUITED BY ALCAIDA TO HEAD TORTURE DEPARTMENT AFTER FIGHT FOR SLEEP”. That’s bound to work.

4.) I could somehow push her to sleep in, too. If I wake her up every 45 minutes by belting “Nobody knows the trouble I’ve seen” into a megaphone that is situated approximately 3 ½ inches away from her left ear, she’ll have to sleep in, and therefore won’t be awake to rob me of my sleep. This wouldn’t get me any infamous publicity, but would be hilarious and I wouldn’t have to spend any money on WMDs.

5.) I could gather up the other sleep-deprived children of Utah and we could picket, and maybe even march down Main Street. How would one go about rounding up the sleep-deprived children of Utah? After viewing my friend’s sleeping habits I feel like I’m the only one…

I don’t know- I’ll figure something out. But in the meantime- Narcoleptics UNITE!! FIGHT FOR THE RIGHT!!! ( The 9:00 Right!!!!)