I'm missed so many days! crying

I'm sorry. It's just that it's report card month.

Actually, this year, they changed the name to progress reports, so I guess it's be progress report month.

Still.. gonk

Point is, I'm getting a bit more homework than normal. I mean, I should still be able to write journal entries, but like, I don't.

I do this thing.. It's called procrastination. sweatdrop

So basically, I write my journal entries either a bit before or after I do my homework. Recently, I've been doing my homework too late.

Like, I would do my entry, but then think, "I might not have enough time to do my homework! eek " And then I wouldn't do it.


I would say, "I'll do my journal entries after I'm done my homework. razz " And then finish my homework really late at night and think, "I'm should probably sleep." In these situations, I trade my journal writing time for sleep.

I suffer from insomnia. It's undiagnosed, but I'm pretty sure of it myself.

So anyways, the title of this journal entry is "Missing Days Like Chickens." I thought maybe not all of you know what that means, so I thought I should explain.


I just thought it sounded like a common phrase, but in actuality, I've never heard anyone say it before.

So.. Missing Days Like Chickens, said no one ever.

If I were to make up a story for it, it'd probably be like this:

Once upon a time, in a land not so far from here, there lived a farmer, his wife, and his many, many chickens. One a beautiful sunny afternoon, his wife gave birth to a baby boy, who they named Bob. As the years passed, and Bob grew older, he reach the troublesome age. You could perhaps say he was a toddler now.

Outside, with his friend, Joe, Bob engaged in an intense version of hide and seek. Playing hide and seek in a farm was hard because there was hardly anywhere to hide, and likewise, hardly anywhere to seek. It had been Bob's turn as the "seeker" and he could not find Joe not matter where he looked.

Then, he noticed the farm gate open.

Now, the chickens were not kept in a coop, or even a pen. The chickens were let to roam the farmlands, enclosed my the farm fences and gates.

The gate that was open at this particular moment was the main gate, the biggest gate. Although it should have lead into town, it lead into a forest area. This was because the farm layout was read upside-down, and thus the farm itself was made backwards.

And so, urged with a hint of curiosity, Bob ventured outside the farm's main gate, completely convinced that Joe was perhaps be hiding behind one of the several trees there. Although Bob was, yes, a toddler, he was smart enough to take precautions to, well, not get lost. He took a handful of wheat grains, and laid them out as he walk further and further away from the farm and into the forest.

And indeed, in due time, he did find Joe, lost in his own stupidity. As it turns out, Joe had meant to hide behind one of the nearer trees, but got tired of waiting, and decided to head back, in the wrong direction. So it was a relief to Joe that Bob managed to find him.

However, on their way back to the farm, following the wheat grains Bob had laid out previously, they stumbled upon two chickens, and then three more. Over yonder, there was maybe ten. And just a few steps ahead of the two friends, maybe four more chickens. And several of the chickens were out and about. The wheat grains were gone, no where to be seen. The chickens, however, who sat that pecking at the ground for more, were still, well, pecking at the ground for more. So Joe and Bob headed home, following the chickens.

By the time they arrived home, Farmer Billy, who owned the farm and his wife and his son, Bob, was out looking for chickens. Everyday, Farmer Billy would find one more chicken. There were several more chickens to be found. So many, in fact, that everyone lost count. But one thing was for sure, Farmer Billy was somehow able to find another chicken everyday of searching for them. So, with a chicken found everyday, each day was lost to finding chickens.

And so, Farmer Billy was missing his days like his missing chickens. The End.

Well, I have absolutely no purpose in life other than writing silly stories. razz

Anyways, as always, thanks for reading, and good night if it's night! 4laugh