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364 days ago, I was basically doing the same thing. Granted, I sat next to different people, got in earlier, ate dinner somewhere else, and I was here with 16 other unschoolers whom I was going to spend the next month living with on the coast. It is coincidentally strange that I should be here so close to that same time. Or is it?
I'm going to see some of those people on this trip, actually.
Now all I am struggling with is the fact that sleep beckons most heavily.
I have decided to turn my novel into a nonfiction information book. That is, I am writing a nonfiction information book this November instead of a novel. BUT ISN'T THAT SAAAAD!??!? It's quite tragic. I wanted to write a novel. I have been waiting for months. I have planned out stuff. I roped other people on this trip into writing novels with me so we could write together and I wouldn't feel so unsociable. And now I'm throwing all of that away. WHAT am I thinking? Well... I am thinking that it would be more worthwhile. And that I could do a novel later.
Except that is so sad. Really sad.
Maybe I will think it over once more? I mean, after all, I signed up on the website and everything. But... oh, gosh. I am such a wishy-washy person.
A guy working on re-doing some bathroom here sounds just like the camp director from where I worked over the summer. It's strange. But they are definitely not the same person.
I think I just need sleep. It's late on the other side of the world.
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