Personal Narrative: Overworked

Accomplishments take me one step closer to happiness and tranquility. For example, maintaining an “A” in a rigorous course, helping others that are struggling, cook for my family, etc. are minor achievements and events that have formed me into a better being. Sometimes, ignorance gets the best of me, and it does conquer my sweet, timid personality that I possess. Accordingly, my accolades never suggest nor imply I am better than anyone else. I never consider highly of myself because we are equally intelligent in our own separate ways. It is a way to build up my confidence level as I am an introvert myself.

I don’t recall having a hard time learning how to read. It was one of those things that just came easily to me for some reason. For the most part I enjoyed reading as well. The only time I didn’t enjoy reading was when I didn’t understand a certain word or a certain phrase. One of the strongest memories I have from learning to read was when I was unable to pronounce the word “the”.

I hug her knowing that this will be our last. Tears are streaming uncontrollably down my cheeks, staining her shirt. I'm not ready to say goodbye. I don't understand why this is happening. Out all of the 7.28 billion people in the world, why did it have to be her?

I am very concerned about your progress. You have been honest with me and said that you are not keeping your class well organized as they should be. Missing classes and assignments will case a serious impact on your final grades. You need to catch up with all your classes and reading during this weekend. Let me know if you need any additional support to get you in good shape on your classes again.

It was the last inning in our all-star game, and we were losing 10 to 8. Our team had 2 outs and we couldn’t get the third. Our pitcher was doing bad, throwing all balls, while all of us in the field were tired, ready to fall asleep at any moment. There goes another walk. They score again. Great! I was thinking. At this point in the game I thought for sure that I would die right there in center field. However, baseball is baseball and things can change rather rapidly.

For fifteen years, I put my heart, effort, and soul into my band Murky Waters. I made it into a career that supports my wife, my stepdaughter, and my parents. Murky Waters is what saved my family and me from poverty in the ghetto of Warsaw, Poland, and it’s what saved me from giving up on life entirely before I met my wife. I met her only a year after Murky Waters began and she was introduced to me by my best friend and drummer, Tony. Anka was two months pregnant with my stepdaughter, Antonia, at the time we met. When I fell in love with Anka after a couple months of hanging out after Murky Waters shows, I knew I wanted to support her and Antonia for the rest of my life. I was broke, an alcoholic, and had no idea how to raise a family, so I forced myself to figure it out and pretend that I had everything under control. Anka, the band, Antonia, and I

Lani: I was helping for someone’s project for COMM 245; I was in the video lab, in the studio. I was on campus and decided to contact everyone I knew who comes to the school. I remember I sent out a snap saying guys I think there is a shooting, be careful and then I started sending out individual texts to people making sure they were okay, like hey are you good? Stay out of an area. I didn’t know how many people were getting shot. I just knew it’s not good and that we have to be careful. At first, the campus was like we are unsure, just be careful, and then it took some time till I finally got an email that said stay on campus and were held there for about two hours, I just kept recording.

Andrew, my older brother, in middle of the road he was tired to keep ride the ox for 1 month. He asked me to replace him, so he can get some sleep. But then I do not have any experience of riding ox, that cause our wagon go wrong trail. The sky was dark like almost rain, I was panic. Everyone was in poor health because digest least food. It will take the several days to get back the trail, I scare that we can’t get back in time.

The Tide detergent bottle gradually moved back and forth, as my father’s elbow creaked, refusing to cooperate. “It’s my own way of physical therapy, you see,” my father boasted. “If I keep it up, I think I’ll be able to move my elbow by the end of the month.”

I was raised with Christian values in mind, and attended a Methodist school. I was raised in the Christian faith yet I find myself, as with some of my friends who were raised in the same conditions, we seem to be growing farther away from our upbringing as we age. I find myself simply not understanding as time goes by, a complete polar opposite from the song ‘Farther Along’. One of my hopes in attending PBA is to try and find answers and a reason to try and reconnect myself. I believe PBA, from what I’ve read, has a very friendly understanding environment. One where you sit down and go into depths about faith, instead of blindly following it because it was your parent’s

It was a cold November morning in the valley of Cowan, when I fired my first shot. It was a smooth and clean feeling after I pulled the trigger. I than saw the deer hunker as the slug hit its side, and it began to run away from us. Dad, knowing I had made a good shot, still decided to jump out of the blind window to end the animals suffering. Unfortunately, when his foot caught, it was all over from then. Once, I was inside the blind and the next I was in the cold crisp air. I then saw Dad on the ground cursing himself for jumping through the window.

The Tough Mudder is very impressive for me by its motivations of all participants. Unlike the relax atmosphere at Noosa Jazz Festival, the day I attendant in Tough Mudder was a very busy Sunday with over five thousands of attendees in that day. My first job was cheering people up in the first obstacle, Kiss of the Mud, and it is really interesting experience to me. In most of the event, the volunteers are the boundary spanners of the event organization. So that before I did my job, the volunteer manager told us we should do whatever things we could to cheer people up by encourage them and make some noise. Though our passionate encouraging, people seemed more enthusiastic about competing in the challenges and expecting about the further obstacles.

In the beginning of 2001 I was a SGT in the 82nd Airborne Division, by January 2002 I was standing in front of the Battalion Commander’s desk being read my second Field Grade Article 15 in seventy days. I was being demoted to Private First Class, being sent to Correctional Custody in Camp Lejeune, South Carolina for thirty days and being moved to a new company when I returned. The first field grade was for disobeying a lawful order from three senior NCO’s, the Brigade CSM, Battalion CSM, and my Platoon Sergeant. They had all told me in the same day at separate times to get a haircut and I failed too, the second was for stealing from the company supply room while on extra duty from the first field grade.

Deciding which college to choose had to be the most stressful decision I could have ever made. I had so many things to put into consideration. I was beyond ready to depart from home, yet I was not ready to leave my family behind. Did I really want to stay home and work or go off to school? Understanding the differences between living at home with my parents and having my own place had helped me to further my decision on which college to attend.

As I laid in bed, searching across one of my favorite websites, creepypasta, for a decent scary story to read; I stopped short. "The Other You" was the title of the extremely short story that I now wish I had never opened. The story instructed that if you stand in front of a mirror, grab a random piece of hair while looking at yourself, then holding a ruler or other object capable of accurate measurement, then marked the ruler; then afterward doing it again only without looking in the mirror, that the lengths would be different. It said that doing this created confusion to your doppelgänger, whom you supposedly see in the mirror, living in an alternate universe. The only issue is that after you do this, you can never turn your back to that mirror again.