Jazz

Peace strikes you at the funniest times (Wow. Peace strikes. Almost-an-oxymoron.) What business do I have being peaceful now with sociology to worry about, history homework to tackle and a politics test first thing tomorrow morning. Should I not, at this very minute, be agonizing over the state of my hair? Or, like many of my friends, why no one has asked me to prom yet?

After all, prom is only a month and a half away *Insert eye roll here*

But I'm not doing any of these things. I am sitting on my bedroom floor, listening to jazz and I can't remember the last time I was this happy. I love jazz. And the man's voice on the radio. I sort of wish I had paid attention to the number listeners can text into just so I can text him. What a strange sentiment. I mean, what would I say?

It seems pointless to get up, turn the lights on and read for History or even to text someone and ask what chapters are coming in tomorrows test.

The whole number thing I did a couple of days ago was totally out of line. Sometimes I wonder if it pays to stick to girl rules. I should really learn what the rules are before being able to stick to them.

It doesn't matter right now. Jazz is good. The RJ's voice is downright sexy. He probably has an earring. What a gig though, midnight to 2 am jazz programme on the radio.

I wonder what his day job is.