Entry #3 – September 21, 2015

Mark made a comment a lunch about this project, saying that he’d just written about the moons of Jupiter in the last journal entry. I told him I didn’t think that’s what we were supposed to be doing and to ask you if it was alright. If it is, then I’ll spend the entry after this writing about Napoleon’s Campaign in Egypt, something much more interesting than my life. But I’ll wait for your response to him before I change the subject in my journal.

I sit with Mark and Katrina during lunch. I’ve been friends with Mark since elementary school and Kat’s sat with us since 8h grade. Mark’s parents were both born before the scare of 1975, although of course both used everyone’s favorite pain reliever at the time. The fact that neither of his parents are like us means they and Mark have trouble connecting to each other. But it isn’t as bad as it is with his brother in the lower elementary school. As difficult it is for my father to relate to me sometimes, I can’t begin to imaging how Mark’s parents relate to a son who is only sometimes verbal and occasionally violent. Not that he’s always a huge problem, most of the time he is perfectly nice if oblivious to the outside world. But both parents having to do many basic functions for him, while taking care of Mark and holding down jobs, seems incredible. Luckily, when he’s not studying astronomy Mark can look after himself pretty well, which takes a lot of the burden off. He’s even looking into getting a job once he turns 16 in a few months. Hopefully it won’t affect his grades much, but they’ve always been pretty high so he can probably handle it. Unlike me, he never seems to need to wind down after being held in this building for six hours.

Kat used to be obsessed with history like I was. Well, we both still enjoy learning about it on our own, but there isn’t the same obsessive desire as before. Unfortunately, she has had an obsession with Daniel ever since he did something nice for her when they were twelve. She is too anxious around him to even talk to him, and she doesn’t even have any classes with him after he was moved up a grade, not even Driver’s Ed. But even a glance at him from across the lunchroom can make her feel bliss. She doesn’t stalk him; in fact she’s never seen him outside of the school. She can’t even get near him without her limbs shaking, much less talk to him. But still the obsession persists.  I can’t tell whether or not her obsession wastes more of her time and energy than any of the rest of ours, but even I can tell that she is much more sullen than when she started sitting with us two years ago. We have the same school therapist, and she’s was a bit helpful during my adjusting to high school last year. I just hope she can help Kat.

(Back to the Table of Contents)