Do you ever have that feeling like you're being squeezed? You're being forced to be a shoe and you really want to be something else like a hat. Yet you feel powerless. Perhaps I should make a plan write down what I want and suss out how to get there I don't think that will work with this.
Anyway....So today for the first time this year I wasn't late for Maths. I actually surprised myself. Although I have been getting fitter sprinting into the Maths class when I'm 5 minutes late then it takes me another like 10 minutes to figure out what the heck it is that we are doing. Whatever happened to teachers titling all the work on the board so that you knew exactly what you were doing whereas now I'm like okay so graphs? Trig? Statistics? It's all very confusing.
Back to the reason I was at school early. Well there's this Chemistry quiz and it's first in first served with the permission slips so Phoebe and I sorted it all out. We organized to get to school nice and early. Which we did. Earliest I've ever been at school at 20 past 7. Then we rushed over to the staff room to hand in our forms to a handy teacher who would put them in Ms McCarthy's pigeon hole. I knocked. No answer. Louder no answer. At this point my freezingly cold hands began to hurt. (We are in the middle of a cold snap). So I started talking inappropriately loud. Still no response. So instead we headed to Ms Gunns Office and knocked. I lept up in an attempt to look through the high windows into her office. But I'm no Stefka Kostadinova. Unfortunately Ms Gunn opened the door as I landed. I got a weird look for this. Then we managed to offload our forms to her but not without her saying 'I come to school this early to work'. But mission completed.
Did I mention it's cold? Flipping cold. It doesn't really help that my house has very limited heating don't ask me why. We are in the middle of a cold snap since here in NZ it's winter. Of course we NEVER get snow. We just get the ridiculously cold temperatures sans snow where's the justice in that. In fact it's so cold that generally I go to bed in my dressing gown and bed socks that means cold. Actually I think I'll go and whack on some fat pants to heat me up.
Whoa. It says my name is peter donelan. Thats my dad...which is wierd...how does it know? Anyhow, in case you thought it was some stalker, its actually me. And not my dad...thats so WHACK. Now I have to work out how to fix that...hmmmm.
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