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Today, day from hell, September 2nd. My first day at school was September 15th. I know it gets earlier every year, but why is this happening? And although it's the last time I ever go back to school, I still don't have to like it.
Actually, the day wasn't so bad in itself. It just reminded me over and over why the idea of another year in this place makes me cringe. I don't like school. It may have taken me thirteen years to arrive at this decision, but it's a valid decision nonetheless. I don't like school.
It didn't begin well. My alarm went off at the usual time, but I just rolled over and fell asleep; I finally staggered out of bed, very late, half an hour and a lot of vitriol later, and staggered into school. This morning was all about admin. I'm in the study room, naturally, but my form room is the lower kitchen (the greasy spoon, Becca calls it) and I'm in U6M. I'm writing this down because it seems important, but in a very real sense it isn't, not really. Things like form rooms and teachers were important a year ago, maybe. But now, everything is suffused with the idea that it's all temporary, a stopping-place before A-levels fade away in favour of the wider world outside.
I got out of there as soon as possible. I didn't want to stay. Mr Evans wandered in, gave me a smile and thumbs-up, and then I left. We had about an hour free, not having the lower school's weight of administration, so I lingered in the study room in the sunlight and wailed to Helena about the unfairness of school, and then I gave that up too, grabbed Fidan and went down to the library.
It's the same, but different, just as I expected. There are about six boxes of new books, a lot of which I've got my eye on to take out in the near future, and I did some shelving and said hello and did-you-have-a-good-holiday to any of thr regulars who came in, whilst missing Nichola in a non-specific she-should-have-been-there sort of way.
While I was there, I kept on breaking off at the sight of first-years, shy and nervous, holding maps and looking at me uncertainly. "Can we come in?"
"This is the library," I said, and when they didn't react, "Yes, you can come in!"
I showed some of them the lower library and the upper one, explaining the sixth-form only rules about the latter, and then the two computer rooms. I had a weird feeling, explaining something that's so familiar to me, but they did seem so lost, standing there.
Talking of lost, the new headmistress debuted today, and my earlier assessment appears to stand. She's got rather an equine aspect to her, and doesn't seem to quite know what she's saying half the time. I suppose time will tell, and besides, it's only a year.
It's only a year.
Actually, the day wasn't so bad in itself. It just reminded me over and over why the idea of another year in this place makes me cringe. I don't like school. It may have taken me thirteen years to arrive at this decision, but it's a valid decision nonetheless. I don't like school.
It didn't begin well. My alarm went off at the usual time, but I just rolled over and fell asleep; I finally staggered out of bed, very late, half an hour and a lot of vitriol later, and staggered into school. This morning was all about admin. I'm in the study room, naturally, but my form room is the lower kitchen (the greasy spoon, Becca calls it) and I'm in U6M. I'm writing this down because it seems important, but in a very real sense it isn't, not really. Things like form rooms and teachers were important a year ago, maybe. But now, everything is suffused with the idea that it's all temporary, a stopping-place before A-levels fade away in favour of the wider world outside.
I got out of there as soon as possible. I didn't want to stay. Mr Evans wandered in, gave me a smile and thumbs-up, and then I left. We had about an hour free, not having the lower school's weight of administration, so I lingered in the study room in the sunlight and wailed to Helena about the unfairness of school, and then I gave that up too, grabbed Fidan and went down to the library.
It's the same, but different, just as I expected. There are about six boxes of new books, a lot of which I've got my eye on to take out in the near future, and I did some shelving and said hello and did-you-have-a-good-holiday to any of thr regulars who came in, whilst missing Nichola in a non-specific she-should-have-been-there sort of way.
While I was there, I kept on breaking off at the sight of first-years, shy and nervous, holding maps and looking at me uncertainly. "Can we come in?"
"This is the library," I said, and when they didn't react, "Yes, you can come in!"
I showed some of them the lower library and the upper one, explaining the sixth-form only rules about the latter, and then the two computer rooms. I had a weird feeling, explaining something that's so familiar to me, but they did seem so lost, standing there.
Talking of lost, the new headmistress debuted today, and my earlier assessment appears to stand. She's got rather an equine aspect to her, and doesn't seem to quite know what she's saying half the time. I suppose time will tell, and besides, it's only a year.
It's only a year.
