Can someone else do this for a while?

I am in blood, stepp'd in so far, that, should I wade no more, returning were as tedious as go o'er.


I realized today that I am quirky. I am different than other people. No one else writes the word 'knee' on the knees of their jeans in black pen. No one else wears their bunnyhugs sleeves weirdly half rolled up like I do. No one else likes the Boston Bruins. I love the Boston Bruins. Very few other people hang out at the library whenever it is open. Very few people read as much as I do. I figured I am a kind of introverted extrovert, but I'm still not sure exactly what that means. I am the only person I know who hates weekends. I prefer school days any day. I watch very little television (CSI). Movies don't count. I know very few people who have words on their ankles. 2, to be exact. I love holding hands, I think, but I have never held anybody's hand. (Note: this is not a quirk, it is actually quite common, and that's okay.)

I wrote a poem last night. I might post it later. But then again, I might not. I haven't gotten to bed before 1:00 the past three nights, and the latest I've woken up was 10:00. So I'm not winning in the lots of sleep category. I love waking up early and being in town on Saturday mornings, though.
So, yeah, to end off, the quote up above is my all-time favorite quote in the world. It is from "Macbeth" Act 3 Scene 4, and it haunts me. (Speaking of haunting, everyone go read The Phantom of the Opera, it's in the school library.)
And now, I really should go back to the school to watch volleyball, so leave a comment or something. I like comments. But if you decide to tell me off, kindly leave your name.
Auf Wiedersehen.