Chapter Six: Jack of All Trades
Monday, September 5
We're taking our career aptitude tests in science tomorrow, and I'm kind of nervous. I mean, this test is going to tell me what I'm destined to be. I hope it's something cool, like actress, or international pop star. I'll even settle for Ethan Craft's wife. What if it's something stupid and boring, like librarian or papergirl? What if I'm supposed to dedicate my life's work to cleaning bathroooms in some business building in Sacramento???
As freaked out as I am about this, Gordo is even *worse*. He wants to be a director so badly, or, as he puts it, something that requires brain cells. He shouldn't be the one who's worried. *I* should be the one who's worried! He's smart. He'll definitely get something cool. At least he's good at stuff. Me, I have no hobbies or talents whatsoever except for marathon phone gabbing and keeping my Sims alive for really long time. And as for Miranda, she is as cool as a cucumber. She is not worried *at all* compared to Gordo and me. I don't know how she stays so stress free all the time, but I wish I did.
Tuesday, September 6
Forget actress. Forget international pop star. You can even forget librarian, toilet cleaner, and papergirl. This totally *sucks*. I am destined to be a cosmetologist. A cosmetologist! You know what that it? That is one of those fat, curly haired, high school drop outs who do rich ladies' toenails for minimum wage at a run down salon next to Publix. At least I'm not Gordo, the blackjack dealer or Miranda, the Navy seal. But Ethan will never want to marry a *cosmetologist*. Instead of being Mrs. Elizabeth Brooke McGuire-Craft, I'll be *Miss* Lizzie McGuire, cosmetologist. *For my entire life*.
Maybe it won't come true. My mom's career aptitude test said she was going to be a rock star, and now look at her. She's a stay at home mom! And to comfort Gordo, she told him about how she dealt blackjack on a riverboat to put herself through college. At least I have hope that I might not end up being a cosmetologist, but I don't exactly want to be a stay at home mom, either. I mean, I want kids... probably.... but I also want a real job.
But that's not the point. The point is that I, Lizzie McGuire, am doomed to failure in life. Which is why I shouldn't even bother doing my "Our Friend, the Dolphin" project for science, but it's due on Thursday and Mom would kill me if I didn't turn it in on time.
Thursday, September 8
Oh my gosh! I am in so much trouble!!! Mom and Dad sent me to my bedroom to "think about what I've done", and they'll "be up to deal with me shortly." Jeez.
After dinner, Mr. Pettus called and told Mom all about how Gordo and me switched science projects to prove that Mr. Pettus hated paranoid Gordo and would always give him a B, no matter how well he did his work. So I'm in trouble for what Mr. Pettus called "plaigirism" or "playgerism" or something like that that means turning in someone else's work with your name on it. I'm also in trouble because I got a C on my dolphin project, and I'm in more trouble since the brain goo that exploded from Gordo's project (long story) won't come out of my clothes, and it dyed parts of my hair blue.
I can't believe I got a C on that project! And now Gordo and me both have to stay after school every day next week with Mr. Pettus and help him clean the lab equipment. Oh well. It could be worse-- I could have to scrub toilets with Kate! *That* would be a real punishment. And I'm probably going to get grounded or have to do chores or something now. Well, that's life, and if I've learned any lessons in the past thirteen years, it's that you should never switch science projects with your friends-- you'll end up looking like a smurf!!!
Monday, September 5
We're taking our career aptitude tests in science tomorrow, and I'm kind of nervous. I mean, this test is going to tell me what I'm destined to be. I hope it's something cool, like actress, or international pop star. I'll even settle for Ethan Craft's wife. What if it's something stupid and boring, like librarian or papergirl? What if I'm supposed to dedicate my life's work to cleaning bathroooms in some business building in Sacramento???
As freaked out as I am about this, Gordo is even *worse*. He wants to be a director so badly, or, as he puts it, something that requires brain cells. He shouldn't be the one who's worried. *I* should be the one who's worried! He's smart. He'll definitely get something cool. At least he's good at stuff. Me, I have no hobbies or talents whatsoever except for marathon phone gabbing and keeping my Sims alive for really long time. And as for Miranda, she is as cool as a cucumber. She is not worried *at all* compared to Gordo and me. I don't know how she stays so stress free all the time, but I wish I did.
Tuesday, September 6
Forget actress. Forget international pop star. You can even forget librarian, toilet cleaner, and papergirl. This totally *sucks*. I am destined to be a cosmetologist. A cosmetologist! You know what that it? That is one of those fat, curly haired, high school drop outs who do rich ladies' toenails for minimum wage at a run down salon next to Publix. At least I'm not Gordo, the blackjack dealer or Miranda, the Navy seal. But Ethan will never want to marry a *cosmetologist*. Instead of being Mrs. Elizabeth Brooke McGuire-Craft, I'll be *Miss* Lizzie McGuire, cosmetologist. *For my entire life*.
Maybe it won't come true. My mom's career aptitude test said she was going to be a rock star, and now look at her. She's a stay at home mom! And to comfort Gordo, she told him about how she dealt blackjack on a riverboat to put herself through college. At least I have hope that I might not end up being a cosmetologist, but I don't exactly want to be a stay at home mom, either. I mean, I want kids... probably.... but I also want a real job.
But that's not the point. The point is that I, Lizzie McGuire, am doomed to failure in life. Which is why I shouldn't even bother doing my "Our Friend, the Dolphin" project for science, but it's due on Thursday and Mom would kill me if I didn't turn it in on time.
Thursday, September 8
Oh my gosh! I am in so much trouble!!! Mom and Dad sent me to my bedroom to "think about what I've done", and they'll "be up to deal with me shortly." Jeez.
After dinner, Mr. Pettus called and told Mom all about how Gordo and me switched science projects to prove that Mr. Pettus hated paranoid Gordo and would always give him a B, no matter how well he did his work. So I'm in trouble for what Mr. Pettus called "plaigirism" or "playgerism" or something like that that means turning in someone else's work with your name on it. I'm also in trouble because I got a C on my dolphin project, and I'm in more trouble since the brain goo that exploded from Gordo's project (long story) won't come out of my clothes, and it dyed parts of my hair blue.
I can't believe I got a C on that project! And now Gordo and me both have to stay after school every day next week with Mr. Pettus and help him clean the lab equipment. Oh well. It could be worse-- I could have to scrub toilets with Kate! *That* would be a real punishment. And I'm probably going to get grounded or have to do chores or something now. Well, that's life, and if I've learned any lessons in the past thirteen years, it's that you should never switch science projects with your friends-- you'll end up looking like a smurf!!!