Spoiled

Our first lesson was cancelled part way through so Mrs. Slicer could go deal with some girls who were sniffing glue. There was a tired, indolent atmosphere at school. After, I wandered up to the shop with Laura for a sausage roll and she told me about Jayne (small and fat sixth year with orange bits dyed in her hair who likes LSD) and Gillian Pugh (joy riding her father’s car at 14). I'm so naïve and don't know the half. . . . A day of boredom, inane singing and a lunatic, nihilistic mentality. I walked home with Lee and Claire.

Grant rang after I got home. He said that Uptown was “hostile” and that “people laughed if you were dancing unusually.”

It's the day after the local elections: Jeremy spoiled his ballot paper in protest, Peter voted Conservative, and Deborah was reticent about her choice although we suspected it was Tory. Claire didn’t vote. Mum voted Ecology and Dad; well, it goes without saying doesn’t it? Grant surprised me by voting for Labour. I think anyone who votes is silly because the system is redundant. When I get the vote I will always ruin my ballot.

Over tea Dad accused me and Mum of being unpatriotic because we don't support the Falklands war, and I fired back with my “no governments” spiel, feeling quite convinced for once, bolstered by Mum’s supportive voice.

Lee called round in the evening on his way home from Tesco with an application form for a part time job. Stephen Brown has put in a good word for me. I filled it out and Lee will deliver it tomorrow.