Prideful

I am today. Instead of going to sleep or playing around or writing more of my story, I went out to start unearthing my truck. Spring break is this month, I'm going to get my learner's permit, so I would like my truck out where I can use it.

Six feet of crap on it, but turned out a lot of it was weirdly placed cardboard to take up space. Did get a nasty surprise when I found out there was stuff inside the truck too.

I filled up the trashcan.

Good thing tomorrow's trash day.


Weird crap I found:

Trail mix

plastic cutlery

regular cutlery

a plate

random bags of trash

random bags of trash with change in them

about 4 dollars in change o.o *puts in the ashtray/keydrawer thing for future*

a lighter

tweezers

a metal egg-timer made in the USA from sometime before the 80s.

Good grief there was so much trash. There's still broken glass in the bed of the truck from where the back window shattered due to the engine going through it.

When I announced I was going to clean it, my mom actually tried to protest. "But, what if you don't have a B average by spring break?" and then some other weak argument trying to keep me from going out and trying to clean it. Don't care. It's getting done whether she wants to whine or cry about it.

Speaking of which, I need a name for my truck. I'm thinking Dashkin. (Check out Bitey's Castle.)