Life as I know it

On entering my class, I blissfully slink into the last bench, talking chattily with all my other backbencher pals. Sadly, bliss, like everything else, doesn't last for long. In enters my physics teacher, and a nanosecond later, we're all snoozing on our desks, our 10-inch thick physics books making up for the lack of pillows. Time passes like a snail, each second lingering around for longer than it's fair share. Then, like God coming down upon earth, the bell rings, drowning her monotonous voice, and sounding as sweet as a bird during spring.

Just as half the class is getting out for a long stretch and a nice chat with the neighbouring commerce students(who are forever roaming our corridors, by the way), our computer science teacher a.k.a class teacher, barges in and starts 'advising' us about how it's absolutely illegal to stand at the door like guards at the Buckingham Palace(can't she see that our class guys are desperate to guard Queen Whats-her-name the hundredth's castle?), and how it's even more illegal to stand within 7 inches of the opposite sex (ladies and gentlemen, Professor Umbridge for you).

By the third period, all of us are sick and tired of life. A couple of people have even considered jumping off the roof, but before they can make it out of the class, our chemistry teacher comes rushing in, a whole 15 seconds late. As usual, we take advantage of her, with half the students walking in late(crumbs of food still grinding in their mouths), and the other half asking her the most nonsensical doubts conceivable. By the time she gets the whole class under control, her time's up, with many sighs of relief drowning the noise of the bell.

Being in 11th means double-periods galore, and the first few periods just repeat themselves, driving us absolutely crazy by the end of the day, our heads crammed with weird s-like symbols (which comes under calculus- who knew?), and quantum physics(a detailed explanation of which is given in our chemistry textbook) and Oiler's formula (oops, Euler's). Not to mention a repeated, ever- torturing loop of fors and do-whiles. Optimism can't possibly exist for anyone this year. Life, as i've known it, is officially over.