School daze ha ha ha like the name of the game OH WAIT IT’S A PUN I GET IT

I look back on school and think ‘I really liked that’, but then I think harder and I realise there was a hell of a lot of shit to go through in the seven years at that one place (on-site sixth form, not just me being a moron).

I liked the fact that early on it was really easy for someone of my middling intellect to be able to excel, such is the low initial standard of the national curriculum at secondary school level. Science, English, Maths – all that stuff was the easiest thing in the world for the first three years.

Obviously I could blame it on not being pushed as to why I didn’t try harder in later years, fell behind and ended up getting pretty mediocre grades out of all of it. I could, and I might.

Or I might just admit I was lazy and blasé about the whole thing,  which COINCIDENTALLY carried on into university and resulted in not pushing myself hard enough there either and oh god is this turning into an existential waking nightmare stop it.

I also did a piece in biology once about how certain animals had evolved to deal with their habitat. One of the animals I used was a wookiee. “Skills: expert pilot and mechanic”. I have always been funny, at least.

But the tougher times were there. Like when the year 11s got a pool table in their break area while we peasants in the sixth form had to live with no pool table. Or the time I was told to pick some rubbish up that wasn’t mine so I picked it up and put it on a chair instead then the next lesson was with the teacher who had told me to throw it away I really don’t think my master crimes through.

Or the time I was made to do laps because I swore in P.E. Which is ridiculous, because I’d had three years of one teacher and he swore like a sailor with Tourette’s, so I was sort of used to exclaiming “FUCK” when I lost the ball (I lost the ball a lot).

Or how I did GCSE psychology with the same teacher who made me do laps, even though he was a P.E. teacher and I was in the sixth form. I still think I was conned into doing that lesson. They used GCSE-level psychology on me OH WAIT.

I’m just aimlessly reminiscing now. I liked school, but I think it’s more rose-tinted than anything. There were enough horrible times I try not to remember, but I’ll blame that on being intelligent, left-handed, my parents getting a divorce, not being good enough at football, having glasses, certain girls liking me and whatever else I can think of that, at some point at school, genuinely was the reason I was the target of bullies.

School was wack.


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