9/24 SAT

It’s easy to lose track of days. I’ve been here 1 month already, and it feels like a week! Only 8 ½ or 9 more months left. Each day seems like an eternity to me, but when I look back, it’s like it never was.

Just like life to do that to a person. Jesus, I’m afraid. Afraid of growing up, of taking responsibility, of death, and of taxes (ha, ha). The thing that I’m most afraid of, though, is stagnation. 99% of the population does it; settle down by 30, retire at 65, then die - - not necessarily in that order. That’s the frightening part. I want to be 12 again. 18, 21, 30, they all seemed so far away. No more. 18 is here. I’m fucking scared.

Ingi came over today. Reassessment time. She was afraid to speak English at the camp, so she didn’t. After 8 days of no communication with the family (they only speak Arabic & French, not Icelandic, Danish, or English [well, a little English]), my guess is that she needed someone to talk to. She’s stopping smoking, cold turkey, which is admirable after 2 packs a day. She’s a very intelligent young woman, and she has a good head on her shoulders. Just shy is all.

Before her, Amy & Najed came over so we could (YEAH!!) go get our classes. I start Monday. FUCK AN A, YEAH!

(I wrote the first draft of my UC essay, too)

Amy & I found a lot to talk about, interestingly enough. I guess isolation will do that to you.

I started exercizing today. I want to keep it up, but…

12 years old…