Why Mondays are Bad, and other things

If you have ever discovered a bad Monday please reflect on the story I am about to tell. Unfortunately, every wood is true and accurate, leaving me with a sad feeling for this person.

A person I now quite well at times and who at other times leaves me puzzled beon a 100,000 piece puzzle (without the cover) had a horrible Monday. She came into our first period science (which was bad enough, we're talking about ground water. Isn't that thrilling?) and sat down. On Monday last week she was out of school because, as she told me, she got up at 1:00 A.M. to help her parents leave for the hospital to get some medicine for a very serious migraine one of them had. Except for the fact she couldn't fall asleep. Her parents, understanding why a person needs more then 2 hours of sleep on a school day, allowed her to stay home. Except that the next day there was a test. This Monday when tests were handed back she saw she had a 27/40. Wanting to know the percentage, therefore the letter grade, she reached into her bookbag to get her calculator. Except when she pulled it out it was covered with something wet and a strange order was releasing itself from her bookbag. Worried that she might have left a water bottle in there that was leaking she reached down to see the damage. Out came a school library book. It's sides were wetness covered and slightly molding. Devastated she reached down further, to discover... a rotting apple. It must have gotten squished sometime over Thanksgiving break and decided to squash an release rotting apple juice. Horrified at possible outcomes for her calculator, had it been fried? would it ever work again? how could she replace a 100$ calculator? seeming to hav no choices she took her gym shirt (which she would have to wear later) to ripe of all the wet things in that pocket of her bookbag. A mutual friend offered her her gym shirt for gym but she declined. She decided she would remove the rotting object from her bookbag next period. When she arrived there she used about 12 feet of paper towels to get all that thing out. Not only that, but the juice had soaked into other parts of her bookbag, leaving wet marks on the floor. She found out tha bookbags are washable. And luckily/blessedly, I've discovered that bookbags wash well but fabric softener tends to not work well. Oops. Oh, and I got a C- on the test.

I WAS TAGGED!
Prepare Yourself.
(I slightly cheated.)
The Things We Couldn't Say
supposedly, page 123 for me page 125 (because 123 is blank)

That day, it said on my card that I was licensed to marry Hein Sietsma, and vice versa. The we had to set our date: it would be months later because we needed to get coupons for sheets and towels for our ne house or apartment. The day before we went to city hall, we had been talking.
This book is set during Nazis occupation in the Netherlands. She was a christian helping Jews to escape the smoke of death and other forms Hitler liked to use.