I am still feeling the effects of Tuesday night; all day I felt weary and my eyes ached. I worked on my V. S. Naipaul essay and felt awkward and out of touch with Claire.
Lee went to talk to Ms. Hirst about his lethargy and inability to work and she asked to see us both at two-thirty. We trailed around after her as she organised the 3rd-year intake parents’ evening, and when she eventually got round to us I told her about my claustrophobic feelings regarding school, how I hated it and was overwhelmed by frustration and anger when I have to do some work. “How do you think I feel having to work here?” she said, and suggested that we both need a bit of excitement. “You both need to get debauched, experience things a bit. Go out and hit the bottle on Friday nights.” I mentioned this Royden anarchist thing to her and she said I ought to go along and for once I felt as if I’d got through to someone else about everything. At least she knows how we feel now. I said that maybe I was trying to find excuses for my laziness, or maybe it was just my age, but I didn’t know what my real personality was (“I’m sure it’s nice and interesting”). On we went like this, me feeling slightly false but also glad in a way. At least someone knows! As a result of this I missed the Shuttle launch.
Art was OK. I re-established a sort of normality with Duncan and arranged to buy his bike off him for £30. Lynn Norden said that what happened on Tuesday morning was “frightening”: “I don’t think you saw anyone else in the common room because when they all clapped you were embarrassed.”
Andrew’s coming home tomorrow. Perhaps today was reason for optimism?
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