As usual, I was late to school today.  I don't know why it happens- no matter how much earlier I wake up, I take those extra precious minutes to do something really important, like floss my teeth for a second time, and I'm late anyway.  Tomorrow I'm going to wake up at 7 oclock, and I should be golden for school starting at 7:25, or whatever time school starts.  It's amazing I've been at Poway High almost four years, and I'm still uncertain about what time it starts.  It's irrelevant anyway, in a few weeks it won't matter.  So I'm walking through the hallways, and they're pretty much deserted, since the second bell already rang.  There's only a few stragglers frantically pulling books out of their lockers and running to class, and of course the administrators and such.  Also the guys from the coffee booth, who are pretty much a permanent ficture in the mornings, to prevent us from leaving campus and getting starbucks.  Don't they realize it's not the coffee we're after, but the freedom from our hallways?  Kids buy it anyway, trying to conjure up some semblence of that freedom in their $3.25 styrofoam cup.   Like the other kids, I'm kind of half-running through the halls, trying to get to class semi-on time so I don't get a detention, when the coffee guy kind of smiles at me.  Not in a flirty way; more like he's laughing because I'm hustling my ass off for school, and his job for the day is done.  Good job, coffee guy.  Some day I aspire to sell caffinated beverages to the masses, while I try to recover some of the glory from my high school days.  It shouldn't have made me mad; after all, I'd be laughing at me too, if I didn't have to go to class.  Which is when I realized I don't technically have to go.  Since I'm 18, I can sign myself out of school anytime, as long as I don't exceed a certain amount of absences.  Although I have been absent a lot this year, I'm nowhere near the limit.  So I smiled back at coffee guy, gave a little wave, and walked off campus.  I almost flipped him off, a little gesture of my affections, but decided that wasn't a very nice way to start my day of freedom.  The only problem is, the weather sucks right now.  It seems like such a little thing, but did you know there are scientific studies actually proving the rate of suicide increases in places where it's cloudy most of the year?  It's ridiculous in Seattle, and Alaska( in the winter).  If I sound a little cynical, blame it on the weather.  Thank God I'm in San Diego, where it only rains like once every million years, or I'd be a complete basket case.  Well, more so than I am already.  Once I get home, I start to study for the SAT's this year, which is ridiculous for several reasons.  First of all, I'm a Senior, and I've never taken them before; last year I wasn't thinking about college like everyone else in the world.  Secondly, I'm not going strait into college anyway, but I need this insanely high score on my SAT's to get into the Air Force Academy, which is some place I never thought I could end up.  Finally, you know something has to be screwed up with our school system if it's more beneficial to stay home than attend class.  Remember when you were a little kid, and your parents would ask every day, "how was school hunnie?" (or whatever their nickname for you was), and you had to tell them what you learned and all that nonsense?  Of course I don't get that question now, but if I did...I'm not really sure what I'd say.  Some days I actually do learn something useful, like how to plan my budget when I move out on my own.  But more often than not, it's some obscure concept I'll never need to know after I've been tested for it.  Unless I plan on being a physicist or something, I don't need to understand that the unique structure of water molecules makes it an effective solvent, which is why it's used to break apart ionic substances.  I don't mind the class, really I don't.  Mr.  Manly cares about it so much too; you can't help but feel sorry for the guy when he starts dancing around when he lectures, telling us how fascinating the world of science is.  So what do you do?  Go to school, pretend it matters, nod your head once in a while, and the teachers think they're doing an excellent job.  Which is what they're supposed to think.  It'd be really depressing if they knew that 99 percent of us don't really give a damn what they're talking about; we're too busy thinking about prom, or grad-night, or wondering how the girl in the third seat from the back gets her hair to stay like that.  There are a lot of things I love about school, but hypocrisy isn't one of them.  I hate to sit in class smiling and nodding at the teacher, while I pretend to learn, and they pretend to buy my act.  It's kind of a relief to be home, so I don't have to put up that facade.  But it seems like no matter where you go, the world keeps coming at you.  There's no getting away from it.  I started this new diet where I don't eat any bread or dessert, basically modified Atkins, and all it's done so far is made me hungry and mean.  Also, I think I pulled my hamstring from running, but I kept taking aspirin and running anyway, because I didn't want to be out of shape for the Air Force...now I have shin splints and it hurts to even walk.  I talked to my uncle yesterday, who's a doctor, and he said to stay off it for a while, and ice it.  Now of course I knew that's what I was supposed to do, but common sense has never been my strong suit.  Anyway.  I'm going back to swimming laps on my own for a while, at least until my legs heal.  I keep waiting for the diet to work and to suddenly be happy and gorgeous, but again, that's my lack of common sense talking.  Diets don't make you gorgeous, sometimes they don't even help you lose weight if you don't do it right.  And thin doesn't naturally equal gorgeous anyway.  I'm kind of through with the whole trying to be beautiful thing anyway.  After Prom I figured screw it, if guys can't like me for who I am, then I'm not worth liking anyway.  So the diet thing isn't about looking good or making the guys like me.  It's about being in shape for the Air Force, which is basically my sole motivation for getting up in the morning.  I swear to God, I don't know what I'd do if I didn't have that to look forward to.  I'm feeling disillusioned with the world in general; and at the same time, I know it's just me being moody right now, and the feeling might be over by tomorrow.  I don't know if recently I've been less depressed than I was before, or if I'm getting used to it and that's what's helping.  It's like running 5 miles or something.  The first few times it's hell and you're thinking "I'll never make it"  and just praying to come out alive.  And you're absolutely miserable at the end. But after you start to do it every day (every other day, whatever, however often you do it), you start to get used to the pain.  It becomes natural.  You think to yourself, "I know this hurts right now, but it will be over soon, and I'll feel that much better when it's done."  You pace yourself, and figure out ways to make the run more bearable. You gain endurance.  Either adapt or die, that's where Darwin comes in on this whole thing.  Then, here's the strange thing.  You start to crave that pain; the pounding in your lungs, your desperate gasping for air.  It's what makes you feel alive.  Which is why people love to go out and party, or do extreme sports, or starve themselves, or create drama.  Because the closer you are to death, the more alive you feel.  I'm not saying it's a bad thing.  I don't have anything against any of it.  Whatever you have to do.  Just everything in moderation.  There's a fine line between exitement and insanity, and some people have more trouble than others seeing that line.  I definitely do.  And the more time I spend on my own trying to figure it out, the more hazy it becomes.  Sometimes I feel like I need a break from it all, so I do; I stay home, and do my own thing, and think I'm doing myself this giant favor by secluding myself from the "corruption" of the rest of the world.  But it's actually worse.  While I am getting a break from the mindless monotony of school, I can never get a break from myself.  I don't know if everyone else feels this way, but that's when everything actually gets worse; when I'm alone with my thoughts I start to dwell on the sardonic ironies that make up our lives.  And then I get bitter and sarcastic.  And then I start to overanalyze the world, and I want to stay away from it longer.  And then it gets worse.  And so on.  Honestly, I can say that having connections with other people, no matter how crappy you feel, makes you feel better.  I always learn this a couple days into my moods.  The more it happens, the quicker I realize, and I'm hoping that eventually it'll get to the point where I don't feel like seeing anyone or going anywhere, and I'll do it anyway because I know it'll make me feel better in the end.  To quote John Lennon, "I get by with a little help from my friends."  Which is why I'm going to school tomorrow and re-joining the real world.  Strange- it has to be some kind of record- the cynical mood went out the window, just in the time it took to write this.  Because I know it's going to get better, and that's when I start to feel alive again.