The 9/11 Attacks: My Splendor I awoke the morning of September 11th like any other day. Comfortably lying in my bed, warm and snug. I was dreaming and at total peace, oblivious to the world around me. Suddenly, I sprang up to the blaring sound of my pulsating alarm clock. The sun was up and shining into my bed room window.
All of a sudden I snapped out of it and realized it was just my alarm. I hate it when dreams seem so real! I began my normal morning routine of showering, shaving, and brushing my teeth. Once I was all done getting dressed I unpacked my computer that I brought along and started to head to the BYOC room. (BYOC stands for Bring Your Own Computer) The BYOC room is absolutely huge!
It is time for school. You are going to be late. Kate: (coming downstairs) Gosh Mom, do you really need shout? We are in the same house after all. Jessica: I’m sorry honey, it is just that Emily wont eat her breakfast and I have to be at work in 45 minutes, take her to her school and the traffic is insane downtown.
Then there is my son that I look into his beautiful green hazel eyes that help me keep going. My wife usually wakes up when I wake up for work, she wakes up to get her day started if we have time we eat breakfast. Usually I make a coffe for myself through out the day, I make her a cup of decaff tea. My work schedule can be hectic because sometimes we have to work through breakfast and lunch then get off really late, especially right now we’re getting supplies ready for future training in the upcoming months. Everything has to be perfect that’s the only way we get to get home early.
Mason Renner Sheka College Writing 1/6/12 The Parking Predicament There was a day when Linn-Mar High School had one average sized parking lot, one exit, and too many parking problems to count. Recently, there have been three more lots added, along with three new exits. Now that the days of a crowded south lot are over, some of these parking rules and how they are enforced seem highly vestigial. There are many students who feel that the ticketing system is overdue for change. Currently, you can be given a ticket for not parking in your designated lot, having no tag hanging in your windshield, parking illegally, and violating a ban from the lot.
It’s strange, because I only take this route on Fridays, because traffic is bad on the interstate around 12-1pm, and this is the only day I have class at that time. The whole situation now seems surreal, and like an act of fate. What if class had been cancelled? What if the traffic didn’t look so bad on the interstate that day? What if I had left the house just a few moments earlier?
Just as she put the poison away, her husband staggered into the room. "Why the hell are you making cookies in the morning, Savannah ?" He asked, his voice still slurred. "I just wanted you to make you something special." She said, shaking slightly as he stepped behind her.
Marie ended up showing Rachel the filthy and suffering fox, and when she saw the opportunity, she grabbed her bicycle, and drove away from Marie and her unpleasant cousin, the miserable fox, and the creepy house. After that evening, Marie stopped to appear at the playing field, and Rachel never went calling for her. 2. Marie is 13 years old. She appears quite clumsy, acting like an adult inside the body of a child.
It’s about 6:30 a.m. and they are about to call count soon. “Thank God the day can begin.” I say with a heavy sigh. The air in the room is musty and old, and there bits of dust falling from the vent. Dragging my sore body up the stairs to my bed I relish the thought of count clearing. One step; soon I will be able to have a decent cup of coffee.
DIANA CUETO ENC 1101 PROFESSOR BRAND 12 OCTOBER 2014 Escaping Reality The alarm clock rings at seven thirty in the morning followed by a hot shower and fresh coffee. The car engine turns on and I head to my destination. After a four hour school day, I change into either my gym or work clothes. In between the day my attention is put into projects and homework until my body muscles do not wish to be awake, and in the blink of an eye is seven thirty in the morning once again. Over time this becomes a routine forcing my soul to scream in desperation for air.