| Current mood: |  awake |
When I was in the third grade, we were given an assignment to create a miniature version of our perfect bedroom. We were to do it in a shoebox. That was the exact assignment: the perfect bedroom.
So I created my perfect bedroom. It had pink walls and a pink carpet and a gold bed that was attached high to the wall.
The teacher gave me a 'C' and said I had not used my imagination. I didn't understand. She hadn't told us to use our imagination. She told us to create our perfect bedroom and I did. That was my perfect bedroom. A pink room with a golden bed high up where only I could get in it. A golden bed where I would be safe. That was my idea of perfection. I didn't need fancy things. I didn't need a television. I didn't need toys. I just needed a safe bed.
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