High School: Friends, Memories and Emotional Scars

Two weeks ago I started grade 10; high school. I was super excited for it! We all make mistakes in life. Three more years of this? Yay.

Even in the highest level cirriculum classes, I don't feel like it. Why? Worksheets on bananas handed out in class; the banana wars. Potassium starts a real riot.

And why is it that teachers think you can go to the bathroom, talk to friends, get your books, get a drink, slay a dragon and make it to class in a period of five minutes?

Alas, even in high school we play musical chairs. Well, "Cell Musical Chairs" with no chairs...

And as a bonus, colouring sheets!! I can't even stay inside the lines... That takes talent!

Even through suffering through painful rounds of musical chairs, agonizing classes and rising early, there is some insane part of me that actually likes school. Take me away officier, I cause havoc amongst all underachievers.

She Works Hard For The Money

I work. The part about working hard is subjective.

I would much rather work in a hospital with terminally ill people in a gown someone died in yesterday, who knows why, but I would. But what do I really do?

I have a very mindless job. I endure terrible music, grueling nine hour shifts and bananas at every turn. I work at No Frills.

There are some sketchy people whom attain very questionable items. A cart full of pop, toilet paper and dishsoap? Typical grocery store adventure. Not to mention we sell very weird things. Quail eggs anybody?

Some customers ask for some weird stuff that I've never heard in all my years of existence. Such as canned gravy. No thanks. They also think that while I have a box that weighs 5470 pounds on my shoulder its a good time for me to get something for them.

And the name No Frills enatils we don't carry extra random junk. Some man came in and asked for staples, "No, no sir. That is a frill."

But hitting my coworker with my cart is always the highlight.