Friday 17 September 2010

A Sea Of Rants (and the occasional evil laugh)

I've got my laptop back, finally! Good old Arthur (that's his name) recovered from his nasty virus and then came back to me to learn he probably passed it on to me before he went off to the Laptop Doctor, because I have lost my sense of smell and am continuously coughing up my trachea unless I down 'Covo-oooo-nia' like it's Lucozade Sport.

Anyway, I've been at Sixth Form now for two weeks, and it's great. I can't help but pay attention in all the lessons, I have no Maths or PE to torture me, and Friday has two doubles of English Literature! Not to mention the amazing freedom to walk out of the school grounds as you please. However, finding a person does get difficult, as I said to my friend Meghan, it's like somebody got a handful of Sixth-Former-flavoured-confetti and threw it all over town!
Another problem is lockers. Officially, Sixth Formers don't qualify for these essential secure storage spaces, unless, like my good friend Squish (yes, it's a nickname, but one that is always used) you happen to do A-Level Art and therefore get a giant cupboard in the Sixth Form Art Studio all to yourself. So poor old me would have to carry four Lever-Arch files complete with about six textbooks and a couple of novels to school, around school and back home nearly every day. Excuse me, but not going to happen!
However, the genius that is me prowled around school for a bit in search of a decent sized unclaimed locker. I finally found one in the middle of a Year Seven patch of lockers, whapped a padlock on and laughed my way to class. Mwhahahaha!!
I have also been kind and considerate enough to share my hard-to-come-by finding with my best friend Meghan, so it is now referred to as 'The Communal Locker', even though it is only used by two people.

One problem though, as I mentioned before, is the Year Sevens whose lockers surround mine. They may be extremely small and moderately timid, but even the might of the Sixth Former doesn't stand a chance against a swarm of small children who tend to travel in packs of about ten at a time, and when the locker space is squashed under the stairs it is not good. It can get pretty ochlophobic at times for the Lone Year Twelve in a sea of Year Sevens swinging PE bags and crushing you against the wall with their snail-to-shell-ratio rucksacks with just a measly 'sorry', and opening locker doors INTO YOUR ACTUAL HEAD without even a measly sorry.

Anyway, rant over... I'm going to go and do something useful with my precious time on this Earth.

*cough* Facebook *cough*

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