I need a piece of chocolate.

I'm staring at my pile of bills saved over the summer, wondering how this is going to pay for law school, a camcorder, and a trip to a mall on Tuesday. Pathetic. I have a hard life, and I'm only thirteen. I decide to count the bills. Approxiamatly 150 dollars, since the chances that I counted wrong are high. Sure I have a job, but I doubt cramming three hours of setting up tables at a banquet hall is going to pay off anytime soon. I'll give it about another decade. Maybe I'll at least have saved up 10,000. Haha. What would that pay for in college? A month? No, maybe a week. At least I'd be able to get some kind of law/politic based education. Not to mention the degree in political science I plan to have by then.
I look at the clock. One thirty. Maybe I should go over to a friends house today. But who? I don't know anyone of the same gender I can talk to without getting bored after about an hour. If I go to one of my guy friend's house, it'll seem like a date. Maybe not to me, but to him and the rest of the population of the world. I sigh. Life is weird. Really weird. I beam at my computer. All thanks to you, you piece of trash.
Dammit.
I have alot to worry about right now, I should be out, getting exercise, but instead I sit here, immersing myself in the my virtual internet world. Plus, if I try to ride away in my bike, I'll most likely be forced to come back and wear my childish rainbow-colored helmet. No thank you. I'll get in some jogging after Conformation class at church, to many pollutants during the day to activate my asthma. Maybe just for a simple walk. Yes! That's it. It'll give me time to unravel, and allow my eyes to rest from staring at this mezmerizing, pixilated computer screen. Yeah, I'm using big words, I feel smart.
My homework is done, just a simple algebra lesson on lateral and surface area. Nothing to difficult about that. Adding like terms will come soon, and I despise that. I like working with the unit multipliers and fractions, those are the most fun. Good thing the President doesn't have to do big mathamatical equations. He gets the calculator. Soon his position will be mine. In twenty two years from now, that is. The last thirteen years have gone by fast enough, I wouldn't question the next twenty or so.
Which brings on another subject.
High school.
Gulp.
I don't want to think about it. Where I am going, I have no essential clue. I'm not prepared to be made fun of. Since I know I will. My insane outbreaks are bound to scare someone. Friends? My friends for the past eight years? They'll all be going somewhere else. Again, dammit. Curse the irony. Curse it to the deepest depths of firey hell. Don't you love my beautiful, inquisive, adjectives and adverbs? I'm not even sure what the hell 'inquisive' means, but I'm sure it has something to do with elegence and glamor. Glamor? Sounds teeny-bopper ish. Ugh. Teenagers. They scare the living shit out of me too. Despite the fact I am one. I just avoid using 'like' to many times, and talking like I still think the world is flat.
Whatever, the walk plan sounded good to begin with, I'll go with that.