I lie in bed listening to the hum of the ceiling fan. To entertain myself, I decide to organize everything I am to do in a mental list. Tomorrow I will probably break half of them, giving up structure for a little spontaneity and a lot of pure, concentrated laziness.
Right when my brain saunters into unconscious territory, my eyes shoot open. I suddenly remember I have to go to class for being a “bad person.” The principal liked to call it detention. He said I had too many tardies. He said forty was excessive and unacceptable, and from now on every additional tardy would cost me a detention. Unfortunately, anything that has to do with addition, costs, or anything remotely mathematical, I have the ability to tune out with expertise.