I’m sweating through my spandex tights and this oversized cotton sweatshirt, just trying to nail the choreography from the "Jump" video. My fingers are raw from peeling the stickers on my new plastic Transformer, but I’d trade every toy I own to get my hands on that sleek Apple Macintosh with the new flash memory and CD-ROM drive I saw at the mall.
The friction of my knit leg warmers against the linoleum floor is driving me crazy while the news blathers on about some oil merger. I just need to get this routine perfect before the weekend; word, it’s going to be totally awesome.
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