I'm about to start class, not sure if you'll read this soon, but I'm kind of self-conscious about my writing. Comes from reading too many good books. If you could look this over and tell me if it looks like the scribblings of a preschooler, that'd be great.
I looked at my window. The blinds were drawn down but it was clearly light out, meaning I had to get up. I tried to roll over but misjudged the distance— and fell off my bed.
"Good morning." I told the floor.
I opened my closet slowly, still dazed from falling on my face. I got dressed fairly quickly, green tee shirt and blue jeans. I zombie-walked over to the stairs and put on my boots.
Walking down the stairs, I glanced at the clock. Suddenly it felt like I had a ton of bricks weighing down my stomach.