It was Thursday.

                I woke up late and had to rush to catch the bus, cramming toast into my mouth as I ran out the door.

                Classes were the usual routine... Mr. Boar was droning on about the Cold War in history and I got bored, so I entertained myself by watching a couple kids shoot rubberbands at each other when the teacher wasn’t looking. In math, Ms. Addison talked too fast for us to follow her words, let alone the problems, as usual. I kept glancing at the paper of the person next to me for help.

                Maggie, that girl I used to know in middle school, still tries to sit with us at lunch. I ignore her—I have been ignoring her for the past few weeks, since she can be annoying sometimes. Nate and I exchanged sandwiches, his bologna for my PB&J, since our moms always packed us the same old thing, without fail.

                The homework load was heavy, especially since the end of the term was approaching. I had an essay due tomorrow, so I alternated between writing and playing video games for an hour or two, nearly collapsing when the five-page paper was finally done.

                Nate and Jessica came over and said they were going to the mall. I grabbed my coat and went with them. We went to the arcade and hung out at the café, each getting one of the mochas the place was so famous for. We decided to do some shopping afterwards, since Jessica needed some new shoes. Nate ended up doing a fashion show for us—with girls’ shoes—and made us laugh. The lady behind the counter was giving us weird looks, which made it even funnier.

                Mom was home when I got back, and I could smell the spaghetti as soon as I walked in the door. I was starving and wolfed down my food, listening as James talked excitedly about his class’s field trip to the farm and Dad asking him questions about it. James then wanted me to help him put together his new train set. I didn’t really want to, but I said yes anyway.

                When we finished, Mom asked me to do the dishes. I groaned but began washing while she packed up the leftovers. We talked about the concert we’d been planning on going to, and I asked for the billionth time if tickets were on sale yet. Mom said she’d check again tonight. She began helping me dry the dishes, since I’d purposely taken so long to wash them.

                Now I was ready for bed, but I couldn’t fall asleep. I listened to music for a while, the beat thumping in my ears. I jumped when I heard a knock on my door, and Mom came in to tell me we could get tickets for the concert. I was glad and immediately texted Jessica about it, already making plans. Now feeling tired enough to go to sleep, I turned out my light and slowly drifted off.

It was Thursday.

                I woke up late and had to rush to catch the bus, spying another mouse scamper under the couch as I ran out the door.

                Classes were hard today, mostly because I couldn’t focus. In history, Mr. Boar asked me a question, but I hadn’t been listening. So when I said I didn’t know, he gave me a disapproving look. In math, Ms. Addison gave us a quiz and I was the last to finish, having stared at every question for at least a minute before the words made sense.

                Maggie, that girl I used to know in middle school, tried to sit with me at lunch today. I didn’t talk to her and avoided making eye contact, hoping she’d go away. When she finally did leave I was relieved, and I opened my paper bag to eat the granola bar and tortilla chips inside. I ate them too fast and got a stomach ache.        

                The homework load was heavy, and I fell asleep several times while writing my essay. Our computer was slow, so that didn’t help, and I ended up writing most of my paper by hand, planning to print it at school before class tomorrow. Even then, I still didn’t finish.

                Twenty minutes later I left and walked the few miles to my job at the sandwich shop, the talkative crowd preventing me from falling asleep but keeping me busy with their demands. Orders piled up, and I was running around the kitchen trying to put together sandwiches and clean up the occasional spill on the floor. Closing time came around, but we needed the extra money so I worked overtime, as usual, staying an extra hour to help clean up.

                Exhausted, I rode the bus for half an hour to pick up James from the sitter’s house, then took a different bus to get home, another hour’s ride. Mom was asleep when we got back—she worked the janitor’s night shift since it paid more—so I made James and I the last of the frozen tacos for dinner. Almost immediately after, I helped him get ready for bed.

                I was busy washing the dishes when the lights went out. I groped in the drawer for a towel, but then remembered we’d run out of detergent yesterday and we had no clean laundry. So I laid the dishes out on the counter to dry, all in the dark. Dad came home and told me they’d had to pay the water bill or the electric, but couldn’t afford both. He said the lights would be out for at least a week.

                Now I was ready for bed, but I remembered I still had my essay to finish. Using my flashlight, I made some progress before a loud bang from downstairs made me jump. A minute later Dad barged into my room and began yelling at me for not putting the dishes away. I waited until he left before returning to my homework, but by then it was two in the morning and I couldn’t keep my eyes open. I resigned to the fact that I’d have to take another D on an assignment and fell asleep before my head hit the pillow.

Today, 49 million people in America live in poverty. That’s 16% of the total population.

Be thankful for what you have.