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I am super excited to go to my very first yoga class!

I sprint over to the bus stop and trip over a broken stopwatch. I build up a mountain of tension that I release in the back of the bus alone, the feeling like water breaking a dam. Going to school is a punishment for me especially 7th period, Gym that I have now. I have 0 endurance skills, so I quickly zip past that subject stunningly fast and make my way into eighth period, History with Mrs. Bowlea. Then, just passing in through her doorway my broken shoes lose the eyelets from them. I try and pick them all up but one of them, those pesky little rings rolled all the way over to Mrs. Bowlea and under her desk. Starting to get up and reach under I make an impact and land hardly on the floor. Trying to keep my hopes up I start to think about my lavender and baby blue tie dyed yoga mat sitting in my backpack. I can't wait until to just relax in silence, focusing, clearing my thoughts. Concentrating on nothing. Half asleep I hand in my sloppy 3 page report on The American Revolution. The more I think about yoga, the more my mouth waters and start to daydream. Following by getting yelled at by Mrs. Bowlea. After History class, I am so excited that when I got to my tiny locker that I can barely reach now, since my locker got switched for some reason, opened it so fast that when I reached in to grab the rest of my books the stupid black peice of metal bounced back and slammed my fingers in with it. "OWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW" I screamed with a yelp of pain and fury at myself. Unfortunatly, the school nurse, Ms. Miden was walking past me and saw my idiotic accident. She rushed me to her office while I silently cry to myself with my throbbing fingers. I will be late for my yoga class. Great first impression for my only after-school class, I think to myself. Ms. Miden runs my hand under water and dials on the secratary's phone, but because of my above-average eye sight, I can see the numbers her limber fingers gently press. I spank my own forehead. I'm getting sent home. I probably broke my hand. No meditation for me. All the stress and tension and strain all coming back to me and staying. She comes back and analyze s my hand a second time while waiting for my mother. On my hand, the water starts evaporating. Ms. Miden keeps an eye on my hand monitoring for any swelling or anything. My mom arrives as worried as ever and rushes me to my pediatrician, Dr. Morris. He inspects my hand and instructs me to hold it steady and directs my mom to go straight to the hospital and get a cast on. At the hospital I get and x-ray. It looks like I just broke my whole hand but my thumb. The tall doctor gives me a completly black cast without a choice. Now no one can sign my cast! At home I struggle with everything! I can barely hold a pencil straight. Why couldn't I have broken my right hand. How will I tell this to everyone. I hate my life so much right now I'd switch with a hobo. No school...perfect. Spelling 4