How could this be happening? I’m going to camp with no Shabbos clothes. Unbelievable. And yet, so very believable
Iam beyond tired. I feel it in my bones when I wake up. But it’s okay, tenth-grade finals are almost finished, and I won’t have to pull another all-nighter until eleventh-grade midterms. In the meantime, I need coffee. A lot of it. A hot shower helps, a quick blow-dry to the top of my head (the bottom dries nice enough by itself), and then uniform and davening. A smudge of mascara in that I’m-not-wearing-makeup way and I’m ready. Thank You, Hashem, for afternoon test-taking schedules.
I peek into the kitchen with lidded eyes. Ma is perched at the island in her purple house robe and black tichel, sighing into a glass of tea.
“G’morning,” I mumble, snatching my thermos of cold brew from the fridge door and heading straight for the granola bar drawer. Grab 1 Caramel Crunch, perfect.
Ma’s eyes don’t leave my face. “Good morning, sweetie. Ready for the bekius test?”
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