(no subject)

As I’m writing this, the computer’s clock reads 1:35 p.m. In one hour, we leave to face North Toronto’s Tier I Girls’ Rugby Team. I am, for lack of a better phrase, scared shitless. Terrified. If we lose, we’re dead. More than dead. Ashley will murder us, but that won’t actually fix anything because we’ll have lost. If we lose. If. If. I’m so scared, I’m so scared, I’m so scared, and I want it to stop. I don’t want to be a disappointment, not after last game. I don’t think I could handle being the reason for disappointing Tait ‘n Ashley the team.

 

Seriously, I’m so nervous I feel nauseous. And I thought throwing up was for pussies. Ugh.          

In other news, we're translating Vergil's Aeneid for Latin now

Well, fuck that.

We lost.
( Come forth, Lazarus. And he came fifth and lost the job )

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

But. I would give that goal back if it meant we had won the game.