"Oh my Lord, I can't believe you just ate a whole flippin' cake." I said to myself standing in front of my mirror. I was having mixed feelings of whether to be proud of myself, and give me a high-five or to feel guilty and give a disappointed shake of the head to my reflection. I decided to choose the latter. The reason behind that is because my first day at a new high school was tomorrow and now I would go looking like a blimp. Great. I really have to start managing my food intake. Who eats a whole damn cake? Me, apparently.
After I had finished giving my disappointed shake of the head to my deserving reflection, I decided to get ready for the "Big Day" tomorrow. Why we had to move in the first place, I feel I will never know. Even then, my dad and I had to move to a whole new country. From Canada to America. Lucky me! All of a sudden, I hear my dad, interrupting my teenager-mad-moody thoughts. He comes down the stairs with a huge box in his arms.
"Erin! I just found the box with all of the plates and cutlery! Dinner is saved! It was put with the bathroom stuff." The joy in my father's tone of finding the cutlery makes me laugh. I walk into our new kitchen and pull out the empty cutlery drawer. My dad places the box on the marble counter top and opens it and hands me a smaller box that makes that identifiable knife, fork and spoon clattering-about sound. While I open it, I scowl at the sight of billions and billions (Slight exaggeration) of mized up cutlery I now have to sort. So much for getting ready for school tomorrow.
"So, what should we have for dinner, dear?"My dad says. I think hard, crinkling my forehead in concentration like I always do in most important situations. I remember the cake incident. I'm in utter awe that I still want food after that. I need help. I scatter that thought out of my head. Back to focusing on what to eat. Most likely it will be take-out. We moved here a few days ago and have yet to do any major grocery shopping yet.
"Hmm... How about Chinese? " I say while walking into our living room abandoning my sorting job. "It's been a while since we had that you know," I sit on the earthy-green armchair and put my feet up on the coffee table. My dad glares slightly at this, but doesn't comment.
"Okay. Do I order the usual?"I nod at this. He walks to the drawer under the TV and pulls out a phonebook. I'm guessing he finds a good Chinese restaurant because next thing I know, he's ordering me to go get him a phone. I scowl and resentfully go on a quest to find one. We always loose phones in our house. Once, we couldn't find a single phone for 2 whole days. Hopefully, it wouldn't be like that this time. I checked the kitchen with a careful eye. Nothing. I sighed. I turned around to start heading up stairs. But, before I could even get up the stairs I tripped over something and fell flat on my face. My curly, slightly frizzy brown hair was in my eyes. I huffed in annoyance and glared down behind me, to shame the object that tripped me. I was rather angered to see it was the phone I had tripped on.
I give up. I honestly give up.
