"My parents brought me from a country where the people had no freedoms so that I could one day vote!"
This is what happens when your mother was an immigrant. If you can't tell by the title, she was born in Cuba.
I didn't vote today. I would've, but when my dad came to ask if I wanted to go with him, I was asleep. Apparently we had a conversation about it. I said I didn't feel well, he said ok and left. I don't recall this exchange at all.
It's true, I didn't feel well. Between my miserable mental state and my unhappy stomach, I was in rough shape today. I didn't go to work, I didn't organize my room (as I thought that I might, in an attempt to feel better mentally), I didn't do much of anything. I did manage to make it to my meeting tonight though. I'm the camp director for the young women at my church and tonight's activity was camp related so I obviously had to be there. I started out pretty miserable but managed to suck it up, have a decent time and actually be a little productive.
I should go to bed but I'm not tired...probably because I slept like the dead between 2:30pm and 6pm. Oops.
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