How To Be A Successful Vegan

24 of September

At recess at school today, I had a long speech/debate with a rotating crowd of kids about becoming vegan. I wrote a four page summary I’ll attach (when I get it back) for a prospective new vegan, Alma.

Last night I had a dream that really got me thinking. In the dream, I overheard the teachers at Papalote talking about how my magic had worn off and I wasn’t achieving anything special anymore. I suppose it’s how a shirt must feel, if shirts had feelings. They get old or small or battered or out of style and you throw it out, give it away, goodbye. I hate this feeling of no accomplishments academically- I’m learning nothing except to speak Spanish because I can’t comprehend the classes.

I left school at 1:00 today with the twins and their little amiga, Victoria, because my ankle swelling like I’m eight months pregnant. During recess I had been messing around, playing soccer with the boys, when I kicked Augustin’s heel as hard as I could  instead of the ball. I fell back a step, and after a couple seconds of trying to shake it off, I collapsed onto the turf in agony. My cool facade chipped as I muttered and tested my ankle to see if it was sprained. Recess concluded and my ankle was still throbbing- I had been speaking alternately with Cory, Augustin, Carlos, and Isaac, and the only thing they told me was to just shake it off. I usually do “shake off” injuries, serious or not, without a problem, but my foot was really killing me this time. I tried to pull my big black boot back on, but it was too painful, so I hobbled up the stairs to my class with Augustin. I went to English class with Heather, the teacher, in the laboratory for a couple minutes before I decided to ditch and call Mum for advice on how to deal with my ankle. I packed up my stuff, phoned home, and ended up laying with my foot propped up on the couches right outside the front office of Papalote with a popsicle dripping sticky tamarind down my leg to diffuse the swelling. Mum, the twins, and I traveled home, where I iced the bump on my ankle twentyminutesontwentyminutesoff for the rest of the night.

Page 1Page 2Page 3Page 4Page 5Page 6Page 7Page 8

Hit Me Up

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s