Diary of a Dweeb
By
Karen Umberger
To dweeb or not to dweeb
Enclosed in these pages is the life story of the Highest Ranking of all the Dweebs. You might not know me now, but one day you will. Ha, ha, ha. See that sentence right there shows you how much of a dweeb I am. Who am I kidding thinking anybody besides my family would want to have anything to do with me? For me it isn’t a question of to dweeb or not to dweeb…… I am what I am, and there is no changing that……
The first thing I heard when I woke up was my mother’s voice screeching my name. I closed my eyes in hopes that it might help to drown it out, but unfortunately that didn’t work. I then tried to close my ears somehow and maybe become deaf to the sound, but that also didn’t work. I rolled over in bed and looked at the clock on my bedside table. When I saw what time it was I immediately sat up in bed, then hopped out as quickly as I could. No wonder my mom had been screeching my name. I only had thirty minutes to accomplish what usually took me forty-five minutes at my speediest.
Well, this wasn’t the first time something like this had happened and I was pretty sure it wouldn’t be the last.
I called down to my mom that I was up and was going to try to attempt the near impossible. Since we were in two different parts of the house I couldn’t actually see her, but I could just imagine her shaking her head and rolling her eyes. At least I knew she was doing it with love.
I ran to the bathroom and got the shortest shower in recorded history then ran back to my room and got dressed. As I slid into my seat at the dining room table mom slid a plate of bacon, eggs, and toast in front of me. As I dug into my breakfast she poured me glass of apple juice. I looked up at her and grunted my thanks. I didn’t want to be too rude and thank her with my mouth full of food. This time I did see her shake her head as though to ask what was she going to do with me. Yet she also wore a small smile.
After scarfing down my breakfast and guzzling my apple juice I pushed myself up from the table. As I hurried toward the back door I grazed my mom’s cheek and told her I would see her later. Normally she would admonish me if I left without a proper farewell, but she knew I was in a hurry and most likely would scold me later somehow.
Slipping out the back door I shrugged on the straps of my back pack. I didn’t actually run toward the corner of the street, it was more of a fast-walk, though if I was honest my fast walk was more like a normal person’s regular walk. Yeah, I know what you are thinking: Exercise much? The answer to that question will be answered very soon.
I made it to the corner where the school bus would be picking me and my schoolmates up with almost no time to spare. As I had been fast-walking my way to the corner the other students had already been making their way onto the bus. I knew the bus driver would only give me a few more moments so that was why I had hurried. I knew most kids didn’t give two thoughts to the person who drove them to school and back, and that most of the older kids kind of resented bus drivers. But hey it wasn’t the bus driver’s fault that their parents wouldn’t let them have a vehicle for one reason or another. As for myself I secretly admired my bus driver, he always gives me a few extra minutes. For that he had my undying gratitude along with my admiration.
I walked up the steps, my head hanging down until I got inside. Before turning and heading down the aisle to a seat I looked up at Mr. Frank and gave him a small smile in thanks. He nodded his head in acknowledgment. If it had been possible I would have trudged toward my seat. However the aisle was so small and I had a bulging backpack to deal with, so I more shuffled than trudged. Most other kids sat in pairs and were talking animatedly to each other or sharing some kind of communication. I guess you could say one good thing about being a dweeb was that I had a whole seat to myself.
Nobody wanted to get dweeb cooties.
Diary of a Dweeb Page 1
