I really want to sleep a little more 270 words essay 3rd grade

I wanted to sleep a little longer, but Mom and Dad woke me up.

Ding zero zero, Ding zero zero oops! Annoyed I said, '''And let me go.

Ah, the sun! Why don't you rise later.

Ah, the moon! Why are you walking so fast.

Whenever I get into the bed, it is difficult to get up again, anyway, I think it is very difficult, it is difficult to go to the sky.

When I wake up in the morning, no matter how happy the alarm clock is, it is just like a mosquito calling for me, and my mother turns it off for me. What can get me up is my mother's urging over and over again, my mother is like a watch, telling the time every 5 minutes, or it is a countdown: "There is still half an hour until 7 o'clock", "There are 15 minutes until 7 o'clock!"

Sometimes it didn't help to shout, so she just dragged me out of the bed, and then helped me put on socks or something - it wasn't that I was lazy, but at that time, I couldn't take care of myself at all. What a pain!

No matter how much I had decided to wake up early the night before, the next morning I still couldn't help but lie in bed. The moment I lifted the quilt, I gritted and bit my teeth. I was a severe "sleep deprivation" and could only sleep 7 hours a night, which was horrible to me.

On weekends, I was finally able to sleep until I woke up naturally, but at about 7 o'clock in the morning, I still had to open my eyes involuntarily, and then force myself to close them - it is said that habit becomes nature, and this is the "nature" that my habit develops!

I asked my table mate how he overcame the pain of getting out of bed every day, and he taught me the lesson of gritting his teeth and getting dressed and sleeping for a while – he didn't seem to be much better.

The long night, which seemed like only three or two minutes in my sleep, always felt like I was about to get out of bed as soon as I lay down. Alas, I really want to sleep all day and make up for my sleep.

What kind of composition?

The autumn wind, like a knife, blew coldly, stirring up the dust in the sky, misty. On the desolate and vigorous branches, there are some half-withered leaves, which will be about to struggle in the autumn wind between falling and not falling, and finally they will fall quietly, curling like butterflies.

It is said that autumn is the season of sadness, and it is said that autumn is a time of separation.

I walked in the middle of the mountain, in the mountains, the autumn wind dyed every leaf fiery red, as if with a vigorous burning vitality, hunting and flying in the lonely wind, showing the pride of life.

I plucked a piece, air-dried it, and tucked it into the book.

On the way down the mountain, I was a little dazed, wondering if I could do well in this exam. Although it is only a monthly exam, it is considered to be an assessment before the midterm exam. Since I was in the second year of junior high school, I have never been in the top 10 of my grade, and I have faced the sighs of my teachers and the disappointment of my parents every day.

When I got home, I turned on my computer, turned up the stereo to the maximum, and threw the exercise books and books aside in disgust.

I don't want to learn anything, and I don't want to work hard.

After every hard work, what do I have left besides the sadness of one hand?

That's it, that's it, that's it, struggling to be at the top of the grade, as if the struggle is endless. However, I'm not a genius, and I can't achieve results that satisfy everyone every time.

The damp and cool wind blew in, and the books spread out on the table were blown several pages in a row, and the papers twisted and cracked with each other.

The fiery red maple leaves fluttered free from the shackles of books and flew lightly in the room. The traces of its movement are not fast, extremely soothing, and extremely determined. It is clear that life has been separated from the trees on which it depends, but the fiery red has not diminished with the passing of life.

Before I knew it, my attention was completely drawn to the flying maple leaves, and I forgot to leave my seat and follow its movement around the room to my desk.

Unscrewing the eye protection lamp, I finally took out the exercise book and draft book, and began to calculate the exercises in earnest. The tip of the pen flies as if it were a splendid dance.

The room was filled with red.

This autumn, in the fluttering of the maple leaves, all the misty hopes are dyed red, gorgeous and colorful.