Tale of a Disgruntled Student

I wake up to the incessant drone of my alarm clock. 6:00 am it flashes at me proudly. I proudly smash it with 'Pookie' (yes, I sleep with a teddy bear, and because this paper is anonymous you can't make fun of me). So begins my journey to the soon to be Academy . My bus rounds the corner at 7:30 (15 minutes ahead of schedule I might add) and i am shipped off to school. After a seemingly endless bus ride, I am dumped in front of the school at 8:00 am, slowly (and not very surely) my legs trudge me into the cafe. My mind still at home sleeping, I begin to review for tests, catch up on questions and more importantly do that homework I didn't get around to doing last night. The noise is overwhelming, unfortunately all of the morning people who used to congregate by the benches outside of the cafe (conveniently removed by a certain individual), have now taken residence inside my head. The incessant buzzing of conversation is cut sharply by the ever-loudening bell. Still very much asleep, I reach down to pick up my back pack which proceeds to rip down the middle under the weight (79.82 pounds to be exact) of my 3 conveniently oversized text books, spilling it's contents over the cafeteria floor. Instantly (if not sooner) I am surrounded by lunch room supervisors who mutter German expletive as they transfer the contents of by bag into the one garbage can in the cafe with strange claws on sticks (I've had nightmares about these). And so my day begins, that's right, it hasn't even started yet. I look into my planner (school made? I think not.) and review my schedule. Biology, Math, Health and Chemistry; and that's just period one. Followed by football practice, I spend more than 10 hours at a school I hate more than 'Nam (I was there). School drags on slower than ever, partly due to the new time schedule and partly because I just don't want to be there.

Home at last? I wish. After a grueling two and a half hour football practice, I decline a ride home from my friend because my father is on his way to pick me up. I decide to call to check if my ride is coming. The phone quality is obviously poor because my sister translates the message into "He does not need a ride home". i hear this and am unable to correct the message in time. Click. The story of my life. Rain begins to beat lightly on my shoulders (an omen I tell you) as I trudge my way home. I decide to stop at my friends house to see if I could use their phone. Ironically, my friend is not home, and when I call? No answer. I proceed to trudge through the ever increasing rainfall. Four hours, count them 1,2,3,4 hours later, I arrive home, sopping wet, hungry and ... without my key. My text books are virtually ruined and even if I had matches would have provided no heat if I would have burned them. 10:07 PM my not-so-waterproof watch calls out. I lie down on the sopping wet bench and wait. Twenty minutes later I am let into the house by my parents who"apologize" for being so late from dinner. I dump my books on the floor (where they disintegrate, I think) and proceed up the stairs leaving trails of water behind me. Collapsing on my bed, I fall asleep instantly ignoring my homework and setting my alarm clock. I have thought long and hard about this school and why I still put up with it. I have even, as one of the Woodland's many disgruntled workers, considered suing for my troubles. However, I am a fair person, and I do not believe that it would be fair to take money away from the school, which could easily be used to repair the new sign which I am about to kick in.

This is a true story.
Except for the parts I made up for plot.
And humor.
And , screw it, it's just a story.