Guess what CCA I joined?

I think I have bipolar disorder, or at the very least, manic depression. I was feeling really down last night (probably sparked off by Delle's superb command of the English language, UNGH), and it carried over to today. I actually bore thoughts of suicide! I was waiting outside the printing room for Delle and Michelle, when I noticed that the ledges were comfortably wide to sit on and push off.

I just kept thinking depressing thoughts, like, oh, I'm totally gonna fall behind in my studies, I don't have any friends, life is so miserable, etc.

Then it was late afternoon that changed everything! It made me feel high. Shocking information is gonna be divulged in 5...



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0! I JOINED SOCCER! You must be flabbergasted. Unbelievable, right? I'm like the last person on earth who'd join soccer. The most apt reaction would probably be: "You? SOCCER?!"

My little brother: "You want to join soccer? Soccer?"

Jason: "Oh. My. God. Soccer?!"

Somebody else: "Huh. You sporty meh?"

I KNOW! I am not sporty at all. I was expecting to embarrass myself in front of everyone else, but fortunately everyone's like, er, as noob as me or something, so I didn't feel inadequate. Hmm. Thinking back, I wonder what drove me to stay for today's training? I don't know. I shall now compose a list of reasons as to why I joined soccer.

1. I want to be fitter. I don't necessarily want to lose weight, though it'd be nice to hit 45kg, but I just want to be more toned.

2. I gave up hope on attaining a small waist, so I decided to be a toned legs/perky butt kind of gal instead.

3. Soccer is widely considered to be the most popular sport in the world. This allows me to connect with more people on a different level.

4. I want to join a sports CCA in JC, for a change.

5. I need to redevelop my discipline, and a sports CCA would enforce it.

6. In primary school, during inter-class games, I always chose to play soccer out of captain's ball, basketball and soccer. Er, lousy reason, but perhaps it can explain the strange affinity I have with soccer.

These are not all the reasons; but they're the main ones. However, I have certain reservations about soccer.

1. Fugly tan lines. Knee-length socks, crew neck, sleeves. I'll look so chopped up! Maybe we should prance around in bikinis like those bikini babes showcased during the World Cup season, so we can get even tans. Hur hur.

2. Worse skin. Cross my fingers and hope my skin's condition won't worsen.

3. Bulging, muscly right calf. I tried tensing up my left calf for the entire bus ride home just so they'd be equally muscly.

4. Scars! How awful. I must preserve my legs.

Today's training was fun; I think I have the potential to excel in soccer. Mmm. Potential. How ambiguously encouraging. I'm feeling a bit happier now because I feel accomplished, and I think I managed to fill up my weekend (and possibly the next), which would really take my mind off thinking unpleasant things.

Hur, manic depression, eh. I've got EEE-SHOES.

Not-The-Actual-But-Sort-Of-Quote from It's Kind of A Funny Story by Ned Vizzini:

"She rolled her eyes, and her boobs moved in sync with them. Girls' breasts are amazing."

Hilarious! I can already picture the protagonist saying it like he's totally awestruck. I'm seriously hungry now. Foood!