November 18th

     It's Saturday today. I'm especially tired. Maybe because I was at school all week, or maybe because I was doing grade eleven math last night, even though I'm in grade eight. Math has always made sense to me. It's not always easy, and I make mistakes, but I've always understood it. There's a right and wrong, either I have the correct answer or I don't. It's black and white, no grey, nothing in between. That's the way I like it. 

I wonder who first came up with the idea of math, and numbers. I wonder if the people they taught it to understood. My brother, who is actually in grade eleven, is really similar to me in that way. He wants to be a statistician or accountant when he's older. I don't know what I want to do. My top choices right now are editor or youtuber, but some others that are less... realistic are film director, actor, or a professional stalker, cause, well, I'm good at it, thanks to my extreme obsessions with people. 

I'm kind of scared of what's going to happen when I'm older. I get bored with things really easily, and always have to do things my own way, which makes me think I'll never be able to find something that I can stick to.

I'm not really sure what else to write right now, and after writing that I am gritting my teeth because of the 'write right' thing, and now I'm going to stop, so that I don't start having a panic attack do to a couple stupid words. Sorry. I'll write more later.