Whew! I'm going to be dead exhausted by the time December is over. Tell me, how do you balance Christmas shopping/wrapping/decorating, homework, youth group, jazz choir, and personal life all at once?!

Jazz Choir is the real "humdinger" at the moment. Yesterday was a nightmare. Mr. D. told us about a surprise performance at us during 5th hour we were going to do 6th hour. Good grief. And to top it off, we would get back to school AFTER school got out. You know what? I ride a bus home after school. It leaves at 2:40. We get out at 2:30. So I had to change out of my choir robe, grab my stuff, run ALL the way from the Adams building to my locker, get my stuff out of my locker, and run to the bus.... In 5 minutes?

NOT HAPPENING.

So during 5th hour, as we were preparing to sing a song we'd just gotten for a group of the... What were they, Masons or something? Something that started with M...., I went into Mr. D's office and called my mom and told her to pick me up after school if she could get out of work really fast. She would come at 3:00, probably, she said. So I would have to wait for a half hour, if she could come at all, or if by some incredible luck I made the bus or I got a ride, I was to call her the very minute I got home so she wouldn't take off to come get me and not find me there and wait forever and be late back for work. Yeah. Great plan, right? But there is a twist.

On the bus ride back from our performance, the driver asked, "Does anyone on here ride a bus home?"

"Yeah," I said, without thinking-- just stating a fact.

"What bus?" Mr. D asked me.

"Five," I answered readily. He told the bus driver. Uh-oh... What was going on here?

The bus driver picked up the radio. Before I could even form a protest, she said into the radio, "Bus 5, this is bus (whatever bus we were on). We have a student here who is just getting back from a Jazz Choir performance. Would it be possible if you could wait a few minutes for her?"

Wait! No! What about my mom?! Would I get to the bus before three when she came to get me?! How long would the bus wait for me?!!

We go to the school. What the heck do I DO?!I yelled in my mind as I started to get off. I turned a very terrified and worried face to the bus driver as she said, "They're at the corner of Adams and 6th," she told me. Adams and--what? BUT WE WERE RIGHT BY ADAMS RIGHT NOW! I was going to have to run all the way back here too?!?!?! This was getting WAY messy WAY fast!

So the very second I got back iin the Adams building, I just tore up the 3 sets of stairs to the choir and robe rooms, threw my robe down on a table, flew out of there and back down the stairs, and ran as fast as my feet could carry my out-of-shape body out the back of the Adams building, down the Freshman hall, past the office, past the main doors, down the ramp, down to the end of the Senior hall to my locker. I turned the dial as fast as I could. As I yanked my backpack out of the locker and stuffed my music for tonight's concert in it, I turned around and saw Mrs. H's class-- my French class, that I had unexpectedly missed today because of a gig Mr. D hadn't even wanted to do but had accepted because he "just couldn't say no", and, therefore, had forgotten about until today. Should I go in and explain? NO! No time, no time! RACE! I demanded of myself. SLAM! Off I was again... Back up the ramp, back past the doors and... Should I call my mom and tell her I didn't need her to come get me? Did I have time?? Oh no!!

"Are you okay?" a girl from Jazz Choir said quickly. "Do you have a ride? We could give you one..." Now what?? No! I couldn't take their offer. "I don't know!" I cried, exasperated and exhausted. I gasped, "No, I have to--call my--mom and tell her that the bus is waiting--but the bus is waiting!--I don't know what to do!" She gave me a worried look as I painstakingly tried to make a split-second decision. I turned into the office and dialed as fast as I could. Please, Mom, pick up the phone! I begged. But some other woman did. I asked for my mom breathlessly.

"I can go check-- who is this?" the woman asked worriedly.

"Actually, never mind. Just-- tell her that-- her daughter does not need to be picked up!" I finally said. At least I hope she doesn't!!I thought in the back of my mind.

"She might have just left... But okay," the woman said uncertainly. But she'd do the duty she was assigned.

"Thanks. Bye." I put the phone back. Now... RUN!!!!

Back down the Freshman hall, out the doors, and--- Oh no! Where did I go now?! Agonizingly, I realized that I didn't know the fastest way back to the front of the Adams building. I did not want to go up another set of stairs! But where did I go?! "Just GO!"I told myself.

I bolted foward, running as hard as I could on the uneven grass and reached the ledge next to the sidewalk.... And suddenly I remembered that the corner of this sidewalk was not Adams and 6th, as I'd thought I'd remembered. It was Chestnut and 6th. I still had to run forever up 6th to reach Adams.....

Why was I so STUPID?! I should've gone diagonally past-- Just RUN!!

I wondered what time it was. Was mom on her way to come get me? Was the bus still there?? What did I do if it--panic!--wasn't!
But as I drew nearer to the corner of Adams and 6th, I saw a big, long, yellow-orange bus waiting seemingly waiting for me. "Don't go! Don't go!" I gasped in a whisper. "Wait!" I had slowed to powerwalking after coursing down the long sidewalk, but now I was running again. I frantically waved my arms, but realized that I was probably too far away for them to see me. "Oh please! Oh please!"

As I got closer and closer, the bus started to move out, and I realized it was coming to meet me.

Thank you, God! Thank you, Father!I prayed earnestly. I reached the end of the sidewalk as the door opened for me. "Thank you," I gasped to our driver. It felt totally inadequate.

"No problem," he said easily.

I LOVE that bus driver. :D

I literally collapsed into the nearest seat. I heard the jerkiest guy in the whole world say rudely, "YOU?!" Too tired to do anything else, I just said, "Shut up."

"Are you okay, Steph?" my sister called from the back. Thank you, Father, for concerned sisters. :)

As I sat gasping for breath in the seat, that same jerky guy said, "You should've run faster."

"Thanks....For the advice," I said, not looking at him. Guys are stupid.

So that is my horror story from yesterday. All because Mr. D didn't want to do something but said he would anyway and then forgot about it! Why are guys so stupid and insensitive and immature??

-Stephanie