opinions.

My name may not be important to you, or it may, but whatever the case I am going to tell you. So you may be thrilled, or disgusted, but I do not care. My name is Katie, Katie Anderson, and I am 23 years old. Some say I am beautiful, but some say I look like I have been stepped on by a rather large horse. But I do not care about my looks because it is the inside that counts, or thats what all my teachers had told me in grade school. I also believe this because it seems no one is attracted to my appearance. Or maybe it is just that I do not pay enough attention to what people think of me to notice. But this does not matter anyway, because that is not the point of the words I am writing. You see, ever since I was a little girl, I always had my mind set on being the best. In preschool I would spend hours on my art projects, making the other young kids jealous of my work. In 3rd grade, I can remember how we did a project where we had to read the book Lady Lollipop and answer a packet of questions. On the first day it was assigned, I read the whole book and answered all the questions. I even made a posterboard for the book for extra credit.

And now that I am 23 and I have a job, I am still focused on being the greatest. When I am assigned work, I am quick to get it done. I spend hours making changes on things that I have written. And for some reason, doing this makes people dislike me. I do not know why, for I am really not a bad person. Or maybe I am, but I do not pay enough attention to people's critisizm to understand. So I spend each and every day working, doing the best I possibly could. Well, I could do better I am sure, but I choose not to. I do not know why. 

The only friend I have now that I talk to is a woman named Angela Thompson, who has just turned 59. You may not care about this woman at all, and you may of stopped reading when you read her name, but I do not care. For I am only writing this for people who want to apprehend.

Angela has many diseases, which she takes pills for. I will not tell you these ailments, because I do not think she would like this very much. But I will tell you that she has to take 34 pills every morning, and another 12 at night. 

She has many problems, as so do I, and so we discuss these botherations over mugs of tea. You my not like tea, or mugs, or botherations, but I do not care about your opinions, for I have my own. And you may not like the words I am writing, but I still do not worry about your assumption, because I have my own.

So, the moral of this story, which you may not care about, or you may want to know very much, is that you should never do more than you have to all the time. The result of this will be people hating you more than they probably should. If you disagree, and think that people should always do more than told, then I do not care because we all have our own opinions, and some are awry and others favorable. 

Most of my opinions are right.