Living on Impulse

On Sunday, Marisa and Katie came over, which was a pleasant surprise considering they had been threatening not to on account of the snow. But they came anyway, and it was such a great time. Marisa had an assignment for her photography class, so after lunch we all decided to take a walk down to the lake. It seemed like an alright place to take pictures. After a bit of arguing, our parents allowed us to walk there. They didn't have an issue with Marisa and I walking down the main road alone, but they were nervous about us neglecting to keep an eye on Christie and Katie. They might get hit by a car or something, or at least that's what they said. It wasn't an outrageous idea either. Katie is a blonde and she has plenty of moments. We started walking up the street and after a minute or so, my dad's car started tailing us. We started yelling at him to go back home and when he didn't, I jumped in the middle of the road and held my arms out, daring him to hit me. He stopped the car in front of me and put my foot up on the front bumper, yelling at him to go home. When I started to climb on the car, he backed away, and even though the neighbors could have called the cops, it was fun. We got to the lake and took some pictures, one of which I had to take off my sweatshirt and lie on the ground to take. Marisa refused to lie down in the wet sand even though I said she would have to learn to "sacrifice herself for art!"
Now I have a bruise on my hip from lying on a rock.
We started walking home and decided last minute to stop by my grandparent's house. Christie called their house, yelling and yelping loudly into the answering machine until they decided to pick up. She said, "We're coming. Seeeeeee ya!" She didn't even ask if we could come. We just cut through a yard or two and hopped onto their back deck. We spent a half hour at their house, eating pickles and cashews and ignoring phone calls from my dad wondering where we were. My aunt was there and she gave us a ride back home in her pickup truck, which was probably the best part of the whole day.
It was depressing when they had to leave. Everything sunk into the dreary monotony of a usual Sunday. I started wishing I could live like that every day. I want to wake up and not have a strict schedule of what I'm going to do that day. I want to enjoy the spontanuity of being alive rather than dragging myself through a to do list. I want to live my life on impulse, do things when I want to and not worry too much.
I wish I could be ambitious without being uptight.
I wish I could let go.
Of a lot of things, people, places...
I wish I could do something besides wish.