At seven o’clock in the morning my alarm goes off. The piercing bleep wakes me up immediately. I put my clothes on, taking the necessary time to do up my tie (while of course ‘taking pride in my appearance’) and eat my breakfast, which normally consists of a bowl of Weetabix with fruit on top.
After lounging about for a while I suddenly realise it is seven fifty-five and I run out of the door in a frantic hurry. I scooter as fast as I can to school, only to arrive there 10 minutes early! I greet my friends, get out my folders and sit down for registration.
After registration I find my hymnbook and go to assembly. As I am a Monitor I have to hold open the door for everyone sitting on the balcony. I sit through an interesting assembly which welcomes new fourth year boys and tells seniors their responsibilities.
Lessons start at nine o’clock. My first are Drama and Classics. By ten o’clock I have walked around in circles reading lines to myself and read an Ancient Greek passage about a farmer. Next: morning break, while rushing to the tuck shop to get a cookie, a special privilege bestowed upon Monitors, I am bombarded with requests for food. It seems everyone is suddenly my friend.
Geography and Science are next; I learn about continental plates and do some risky experiments involving boiling a plant in ethanol. Everyone frantically rushes to lunch while walking, not running of course. I casually skip the queue (Monitors’ privileges again). My friends and I eat some delicious beef stew and school rice pudding and rush off to play football on the fields.
The bell rings and we sprint to the classroom and sit through registration. My next lessons are French and triple games. After sitting through French, looking at the clock, I walk to the changing rooms only to be bombarded by boys’ shouting. I step outside only to realise it is rainy, windy and freezing. Marching through the arctic British weather I feel like an Inuit however we still play rugby and manage to have a good game.
I trudge back to the changing rooms, get changed and take the bus home with my friends. I arrive at home only to be tortured by complex homework. Feeling exhausted I eat, shower and go to bed, still unprepared even after five years for the next day of school.
St Paul's Juniors Boy in 5W