Attitude Adjuster
Nov. 19th, 2002 09:01 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ravenI may have said this before, but Mrs Chemistry Williams has her head so far up her own arse she can colour-code her duodenal ulcers. I know Becca always hated her, but I initially thought she meant well. Now I just hate her. It's mutual. She seems to think I trade on my reputation. I do. That's what it's there for! She also seems to think I have a serious attitude problem, because I don't care about green absence slips or white permission slips or red tape and bureaucracy. I don't care about anything very much. I'm supposed to have a fucking attitude problem; I'm fifteen years old!
And it may sound paranoid, but I'l lay good money that she has something to do with the fact I didn't get an attainment thingit. This is the first year I don't have to collect anything at Prizegiving...
Yuk. I never get so pissed off about people usually, unless they're called Katrina - and in Katrina vs. Mrs Williams I back Katrina.
Okay. I'm done ranting. I am, I really am...
I really am. I may loathe the woman, but do I need to take up space in my journal ranting about her? It is, after all, one of the few things in the world that's just mine.
Sometimes-
I don't want to be weird. I want to be normal. It's so tiring, so so tiring, acting normal, trying to look like I care, and I don't want to be weird sometimes, I just want to be normal.
Normal. Conventional. Normal family, normal ancestry, normal mindset.
They were talking about Christmas today. I'm dreading it.
It's going to be so depressing, and I'm sure I'll be alone.
They sell Christmas trees in Connaught Place. They're never real, always plastic, and they fall apart when you touch them.
And it may sound paranoid, but I'l lay good money that she has something to do with the fact I didn't get an attainment thingit. This is the first year I don't have to collect anything at Prizegiving...
Yuk. I never get so pissed off about people usually, unless they're called Katrina - and in Katrina vs. Mrs Williams I back Katrina.
Okay. I'm done ranting. I am, I really am...
I really am. I may loathe the woman, but do I need to take up space in my journal ranting about her? It is, after all, one of the few things in the world that's just mine.
Sometimes-
I don't want to be weird. I want to be normal. It's so tiring, so so tiring, acting normal, trying to look like I care, and I don't want to be weird sometimes, I just want to be normal.
Normal. Conventional. Normal family, normal ancestry, normal mindset.
They were talking about Christmas today. I'm dreading it.
It's going to be so depressing, and I'm sure I'll be alone.
They sell Christmas trees in Connaught Place. They're never real, always plastic, and they fall apart when you touch them.
