Ugh, so camping is a thing now?

Oh joy, oh bliss. My parents decided that dragging me out to the middle of nowhere and forcing me to sleep under the stars would somehow make me appreciate nature more. Like, are they kidding me? Newsflash: I appreciate Netflix and air conditioning way more than mosquitoes and mud. But noooo, we had to come on this stupid camping trip for some “quality family time.” And guess what the cherry on top is? We’re sharing our campsite with another family… with their son who’s about my age. Just great, more people to witness my misery.

So here I am in this sweltering heat with bugs the size of birds dive-bombing me every two seconds. The highlight of my day is slathering on enough bug spray to probably poison a small animal. And don’t even get me started on the bathroom situation—there’s literally a hole in the ground with a toilet seat over it. Romantic, right? But you know what really takes the cake? This guy Anonymous from the other family keeps trying to chat with me while I’m in full-on grumpy mode. He thinks he’s all charming just because he knows how to start a fire without burning his eyebrows off (not an impressive feat if you ask me). I swear, if he asks me one more time if I’m having “fun yet,” I might just have to fake a spider bite or something.

The worst part? Even though Anonymous clearly has no idea how annoyingly perfect he looks in that worn-out baseball cap, part of me kind of likes that he doesn’t back down when I snap at him. It’s almost… entertaining? Whatever, don’t get it twisted—I still hate camping and everything it stands for. But maybe (and I mean maybe), having someone around who can take my sass without running away is making this whole experience slightly less torturous than expected. Ugh, why did I even admit that? Now I have to go put more sunscreen on before Anonymous notices how burnt my shoulders are getting.