“Dance To This Beat”

January 14, 2009

 Earlier I had told my mother she could watch American Idol in my room since my father had just hooked up another Xbox 360 into the living room. I did not mention a word about anyone else barging into my room. I’m logging off of the computer. I decided what the heck, maybe I’ll go watch American Idol up with my mom. I walk into my room the light is on for no reason, it is effing hot, ALL of my siblings are in there, and there is junk lying all over my bed and floor like it’s some kind of party. Wake up call, get the hell out of my room!!! I say, “Why is it so hot in here? Why is all this stuff lying around in MY room?!” My sister Kate replies, “That’s Eleanor’s stuff.” I groan. “Get it out!” and storm out of my room.

First off I keep my room chilled because I change temperatures rapidly and in the summer it gets stiflingly hot because my walls are painted bright red. Second I keep my room clean and pristine. Third I do not want the light on unless I would like to read. Wouldn’t you think the light from my TV would be enough?! Grrrrrrrrrr!!! Why can’t anyone just deal with my room and not screw with it?

Anywhoo, I go out and ask my mom, “Why did you turn the space heater on?” she replies, “I was cold.” My eyes light up, “Then use a BLANKET.” I go on, “And why is all that stuff in my room. Why are… They in my room?” My dad yells from the living room, “Phoenixx, stop complaining.” “NO.” I shout back. I am angry, and if you had another thought in mind you are sorely mistaken. I am a picky perfectionist and you never know what to expect with me. So here is a tip, ask before you cross me. This must mean nothing to you reader, but I extremely frustrated right now. Four more words, “Dance to this beat.” (Panic! At The Disco lyrics.) End of story.

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