A day in the life of Dana Harris

By Dana Harris, Online Opinions Editor

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It’s very early, and music is playing in the background.  It’s the mesmerizing Lady Gaga and the melody makes me smile.  Suddenly a loud noise rudely interrupts my bliss.  I reach over to get its attention so it will stop.  It’s peaceful again for about five minutes, but then the vicious cycle repeats.  Music – loud noise – reach over to stop it.  Music – loud noise – reach.  But now the cycle is broken – it’s not the beeping noise I hear, it’s my mother’s voice – and she sounds aggravated.

“Dana, it’s 6:32!  Why aren’t you downstairs?”  I leap out of bed, grab the first t-shirt I see in my drawer and throw on a pair of shorts.  I have a mission that needs to be completed in eight minutes: explain why I woke up so late, scarf down breakfast and rush to the bus stop.   As I sprint down the stairs, my mind juggles possible scenarios to explain why I have overslept.  Again.

 I decide to tell (a version of) the truth: “The multiple alarms I set clearly aren’t working correctly.”  My mom listens intently then berates my dad for not getting me a more reliable alarm clock.  He just shakes his head and smiles.  Driving to the bus stop, he asks what we could do differently to make sure I get up on time.  I do not have any thoughts on this matter and he gently suggests I consider going to bed earlier.  For obvious reasons, I ignore this suggestion.  However, an ingenious idea comes to me.  I will create and sell alarm clocks that will play the worst song ever written over and over.   When you hit the snooze button, it just increases the volume.  I settle on “Friday” by Rebecca Black.  This idea will make me as rich as Mark Zuckerburg.

We approach the bus stop but no one is there.  Down the road, I see the bright yellow school bus flashing its obnoxious red lights.  Panic and fear hit me—I don’t want to miss the bus.  Again.  My dad, once again (Do you see a pattern here?) repeats his advice that getting to bed earlier will make it easier to get up and we won’t have to rush to the bus.  I nod in agreement, mostly to ensure that he stops talking because it is too early to even attempt to communicate.  We catch up to the bus or as I like to think of it, a chauffeur picking up six more zombies.  I rush onto the bus with my back pack and softball bag.  My entrance is less than graceful as I knock over the fire extinguisher.  Again.

 The bus arrives at school at 6:53.  I put my bag down in the team room and then proceed to sit with my friends.  The second bell rings and I somehow manage to make it to class with my eyes half shut.  There are four kids who are actually sleeping, their heads on the desk.  It’s a record high!

 In between walking to first and second period, the hallway I use is jammed up.  No one moves and there is a big commotion in the hallway due to an “adorable prom proposal.”  Ah…young love.  I have another brilliant idea for making money: a portable GPS system to alert students of blocked hallways.

 The morning ends, kind of, when the bell rings at 10:40 for lunch.  It’s time for friends, nourishment, and teacher visits.  Following this very important part of the school day, it’s back to class.  I feel energized and although only three students are napping during the next class, this too is a new record.

 What a day it’s been! Again.