Another general discussion day, in the library with Beaumont, Pearson, Michelle Cliff, and annoyed seventh-years.
(Claire Pearson - triviality here - I’m sure she keeps staring at me, perhaps I’m imagining things. It makes me start feeling almost hopeful. Yet how can I sit here and write this; she probably loathes me).
By the time the third lesson came I really didn’t want to go to English. It was to be an English Tutorial with Mrs Bastow, discussing the origins and development of the English Language. Tutorials are supposed to be helpful, not burdensome! I hedged and wavered, saying I wasn’t going to go but eventually I went all the same.
Fourth and Fifth periods were more English; first, “Anthony & Cleopatra” with Mrs Slicer (C9), and then “Persuasion” with Ms Hirst in P18; I become annoyingly drowsy in these lessons, my mind deadens and I just can’t seem to find the incentive to work. Lee Hoy was acting all ill, moaning pathetically and sitting there silently, for him unusual. By the end of the day he looked terrible.
My evening was spent drawing chimneys from my bedroom while listening to Santana’s “The Swing of Delight.” The drawings are for tomorrows Art course (“every chimney has a personality”) and were quite good, I thought.
It was a mixed day, good in that I enjoyed the conversation in the library and pretending that C. Pearson likes me, but not enjoyable in that I’m becoming more and more aware of the amount of work I have to do. I’ve got two Biology essays due for Friday, a History essay for Monday and this bloody debate, also for Monday.