I could do some maths homework, but frankly, I'd rather die. I have no intention of boring my eyes out, or using any more brain cells than would be necessary.
And I really dislike this teacher. I don't even know her name, and don't really want to know it. I believe the disregard and dislike I feel towards her is mutual. It's not my fault that she thinks every time someone speaks they're talking about unrelated subjects to school. If she actually had ears that weren't developed in the Dark Ages so she could register modern-human speak, she would have noticed that I was clearly discussing the lit-essay that I haven't started working on yet.
I'v decided that instead of doing actual work, which would mean less to be done after school - not that I'd do half of it anyway - I'm going to waste my time writing this. It will give the teacher the impression that I'm being a diligent, honest, hard-working student, while really I'm releasing my pent-up loathing for her on paper in a non-violent, non-combative way. In other words, instead of throwing something at her and her ugly pinkish top which she is wearing over another black top, I get to bitch about her here. I mean what the hell? Who wears two tops at once, unless you're in some forsaken Scandinavian country where the sun don't shine. Why do teachers always wear grey trousers. I can't stand them. They make fat teachers look fatter and thin teachers look...bad.
If I were a teacher, which would be my last resort after going through an Arts degree then realising I had no intention of continuing onto Law, so would have to choose between the equally stressful jobs of psychologist or teacher, where you'd have to deal with several psychotic people that probably hate you, which is probably why I'd choose psychology because then I'd only get one of those people at a time, rather than an entire class of them...
Anyway, I've I were a teacher, I'd make sure to only wear black pants, or skirts and dresses...maybe jeans on free dress days. (Everyone loves those days when teachers come to school looking like they're homeless, or just woken up - when we see them for the people they really are...) Just no grey trousers. Or brown, for that matter. Or pinstriped. I mean, seriously?
In 20 minutes I've written more than I'll get done on my literature essay tonight. Thankfully that's due Friday, not today like it was originally meant to be...
And the teacher is sitting there going through some unfortunate student's homework or assignment or something. She looks like my Nanna - how she looked 40 years ago...back in the sixties, when haircuts like that were still in fashion.
Okay so I think I've done enough teacher bashing for one day. I mean it's not like I even hate her that much. I just don't like it when I get told off for something I didn't do. Like homework, for example...
But right now I really just want to get out of here. I'd love it if I were sent out, even. I can pretty much see people's brains fizzle up and die around me. Please, can someone come in and ask 'Who died?' I'm not even kidding. This class screams funeral. And if I die of boredom in the next twenty minutes then hey, I guess we'll get to have one.
