And so it arrives, the final day of the freedom that was February half term. All my work has been done, my room is tidy, my school bag is packed; all I need to do now is laze around in bed watching Big Bang Theory re-runs until I fall asleep some time before 8 o'clock.
... Which is what I would be saying, if I indeed was one of those people who gets their work done at a sensible pace and doesn't leave everything until the final Sunday before returning to school.
As it stands, I have one analytical English essay to start and complete, a French essay, half a novel to finish, a debate to learn (see previous) and a play to edit. Oh, first-world teenage problems, how you make me weep.
I think it's a pretty universal fact that across the country, that at this moment there are of thousands of teenage rebels cramming in a weeks worth of coursework today. Fellow slackers, I salute you. Good luck.
So that's what is pissing me off today - schoolwork. And the cesspit of unfinished essays into which I have sunk, drowning in all the stinking French irregular verbs and rotting Victorian stereotypes that were imposed upon women. I would rather shoot myself at point-blank range with a paintball gun filled with pooballs than drag myself from my laptop to do work. But we move on.
Pooballs.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0GGLvbUVfL8 I WILL BE CHEERY.
I may survive to blog another day. Then again, perhaps not.
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