In my seventeen years, I have lived a relatively stress-free life. When I say “relatively”, what I really mean to say is that I’m a worrier, an over-thinker, a imaginer of the worst possibilities(er) and that I think—think being the key word—that I probably imagined those first sixteen years and a couple months to be more stressful than they really were.
I’ve been kind of MIA lately, but I have a good reason. Or rather, reasons. The very abridged version of the highlights of my last month:
- That one English media assignment that out group had to develop five different ideas for because our teacher consistently did not like our concepts which culminated in a meeting in a cafe in a sketchy neighbourhood downtown and multiple angry texts and hurt feelings.
- Those 30 Hours I went without solid food for the 30 Hour Famine, during which I went to the mall with my friend and watched The Hunger Games. At least I was smart enough not to hang out with my brother in a noisy food court, where he broke down and began to eat in front of me, all while imploring me to stay with him because he would “look awkward eating by himself”, like I did last year.
- That dead fetal pig I bravely retrieved from a bucket of chemicals and dissected in the name of biology and that huge test during which we had to name various pig organs were scattered in trays around the room. I will never look at bacon the same way again.
And then there’s that one week...
- when student council elections took place;
- when the Ontario Technological Skills Competition occurred;
- when our Grade Eleven English exam was scheduled;
- when the first lake practice for dragonboat happened;
- when my friend’s prom took place;
- when I was supposed to write the SATs.
What to do in intense situations like this? As a compulsive list-maker, I listed off all my commitments for the week and prioritized like no other. I ended up rescheduling my English exam, and opting out of prom and dragonboat practice.
Not going to lie; that was probably one of the most intense weeks of my life. After I wrote the SATs, I was exhausted beyond belief. All I wanted to do was take a nap (which would last into the next day), but I ended up venturing into a faraway land to shoot a photography assignment with a friend in the afternoon. And then going to Burger Priest for the greasiest but also most delicious burger I have ever eaten and then to Butter Avenue for the most delectable macarons that I have ever nibbled on.
Yes, Butter Avenue is that good. Each macaron is a perfectly textured and filled with just the right amount of buttercream. Tammy and I bought two boxes, one to split between the two of us and one to give away to one of our friends as a birthday gift. After we finished the first box, we eyed the second one hungrily. Macarons are hard to resist. My favourites: the Caramel Sea Salt, which tastes like heaven; and the Earl Grey, reminiscent of a Fruit Loop until the tea flavour hits your taste buds.
These macarons are so good, that we ended up going back to Butter Avenue (which is totally out of our way) with another friend the following Tuesday, just because.