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My Personal Statement On My Life

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The light from the warm sun streamed through the blinds and bounced off my eyelids as my obnoxious alarm yelled to me that it was time for school. I refused to believe that I had to awake from my fantasy dreams and move out of my heavenly bed, so I aggressively snagged my phone to press snooze, for the fifth time of course. Getting up for school has always been a dying task for me. The thought of leaving my toasty hot blankets and actually getting ready to go to a place that looked like a filthy prison, all just to receive a cheap education through our pathetic government was at the bottom of my list of things to do. Of course eventually I got out of bed, but that was not my choice, it was my mom’s. After my mother’s many threats of being grounded, I rolled out of bed uttering several moans and groans. The moment the sheets slipped off my silky soft pajamas, and I stepped onto the icy, cold hardwood floor my body was overwhelmed with sadness. My poor attitude and I stomped down the stairs and grabbed the first decent thing in the pantry to eat for breakfast. This morning it was cheerios without the milk because I was feeling extra lazy. After eating the honey glazed cardboard, I decided that maybe I should actually get ready. I stared into my closet while simultaneously throwing almost every article of clothing I grabbed to the ground because it simply wasn’t going to match my light, ripped denims. With boiling frustration, I ran to my mother’s closet and grabbed one of her

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