I got a sense of deja vu this morning, slightly, kind of, vaguely, a bit. You see, the other day I was chewing a glow stick. Don't ask me why, but if anything's not immediately disgusting, like most foods, I'll probably end up biting it. Common examples are shiny new coins, single bus tickets* and my nails. In that respect, I really haven't moved on much since I was a baby, apart from now I can only reach one set of nails. So, I was chomping away at this glow stick, delighting in the crunchy sound it makes, when it cracked just a little bit, and some of the glow juice dribbled out on to my waiting oh-so-picky taste buds, and made short work of them. I don't know if anyone else has ever swallowed glow stick juice before, but it just makes you go... bleurgh. Sometimes all over the place.
And so to the crux of the matter. Bleurghing is the little sound you make when anything slightly miserable and petty tempts you to give up on life. And it's exactly what I did this morning, as the morning call that I thought had descended into the bowels of history as the Easter holidays stretched on came marching into my room with frankly sickening optimism and positiveness, practically gushing with warm feeling towards the world. Or maybe just enjoying putting me through the misery, the torment that is waking up. Not properly waking up, no, I only really achieve that around half way through second lesson (During languages, the aforementioned second lesson, you start asleep from the night and end asleep from boredom, so you go through a sort of transitional phase where you can just about keep your eyes focused), but beginning on the winding, bleary road towards consciousness, and as with all journeys, the starting is the hardest part.
Now, breakfast tables in my house are quite engaging events, with subjects ranging from deep philosophy and music theory to possible strategies for an invasion of the Isle of Wight. It's quite soothing to discuss such matters freely without the usual restrictions of common sense and tact that come with being awake. But this morning, I went into "Teenage social recluse" mode, and when Sarah started a See-who-can-name-the-most-counties-in-Europe-beginning-with-L competition, I barely managed to grunt "Latvia Liechtenstein Lithuania Luxembourg Macedonia" through the white mist of sleepiness. Naturally, my family immediately didn't see my current annoyance with life, and went on to tell me some random drivel about how Macedonia doesn't begin with an L.
After much more grunting and grimacing on my my part, they finally caught on to my unhappiness, and in true Bradley style that I would have laughed and grinned a wicked grin at on any other occasion, or if I hadn't been the recipient of such blatant rudeness, they completely ignored me. I think it was purely out of concern for the diminishing amount of remaining undamaged crockery that they finally had the decency to ask me what was up. "School" was all I could be bothered to say. I mean, why should they take an interest? It's none of their business, they keep on interfering.
I'm very reasonable on mornings.
So, yes, I was convinced school was to blame, despite (As I've mentioned in a previous post, which I'm sure you've read) my awareness of my morning problems. But, shock horror, school was actually quite good. People who get unreasonably annoying later in the term were fairly reasonable, although for reasons I can't quite fathom spent the whole morning talking about golf. My friends were on form, with new jokes and crack fresh from the holidays, rather than the wearisomely familiar, slightly stagnant produce spurting from their mouths later in a term. I had a good time catching other people, was shown the same cut about five times by Aaron, and generally enjoyed the sun/company (Apart from when Emilie stole my tie. That was just cruel, it added at least another 400 meters walking to my day, ergo, added pointless excercise).
So it must have just been the morning that put me in a bad mood to begin with. Still, I can hardly come home from school and tell my family that "I've changed my mind, I actually quite enjoy school." Can you imagine the depths to which my street cred would plummet? And it's blatantly untrue. Ask me tomorrow morning when you see me.
As a quick final note, I get the feeling that, shocking though it may seem, I'm running out of decent inspiration and material for my blogs. Rest assured I will prevail, of course, and soon the feeling will have gone away, and I feel that the length and quality of my posts counterbalances the time between them. Not like the quick jottings down every week or so you'll get from my competitor blogs ;)
*If you ask me why not returns, I will probably bang your head off something, the next time I see you. I'm in a bit of a peevish mood at the moment and idiots, after all these years of fraternising with them, are starting to bore and annoy me.
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