S.O.R.E.

Nothing feels like rugby. I'm in the best shape of my life, or something like, and I'm still dying from practice yesterday. It hurts to put on my shoes. I got off my bed wrong and twinged my back. My right knee is troublingly unstable. But I'm happy, that counts for a lot. And I know my muscles will harden eventually.
There's a rugby social event this Friday. Our first game is Saturday, and two girls have birthdays this week, so we're having a team dinner. I'm going to make the sausage buns my dad posted about awhile ago. I hope I'll have access to spices, I don't want to buy whole containers of spices if I don't have to. It's exciting. I think I'm going to like the team. They're all dating each other, but it doesn't seem too dramatic. We have a social with Yale after the game on Saturday. I don't think I'm going to drink, I never got into the whole afternoon drunk thing, but I can't drive because I don't know how, so I feel like it isn't fair to the DD girls if I don't. Sort of like "eat your peas there are starving kids in China". Not that I think that's a good enough reason to do something I don't want to. With drinking. I'm totally anti-wasting food.
This week is going too quickly. This semester is going too quickly. I'm not ready for it to be summer, mostly because I can't run 13 miles yet. And I'm not where I want to be with my grades. I need more time. I feel like that's going to be the story of my life.
My whistle still hasn't arrived. It makes me sad. I want to wear it around so people ask me about it and I can tell them about Falling Whistles and then get them to join Invisible Children. And yes, that is my Master Plan.