The worst day so far


The worst day so far.

I am not superstitious. However, it was a strange date yesterday (12/6/12), my mobile went funny. If my great grandfather was alive he would be confused from a date like that.
  Today I can say that yesterday was only giving me warnings that today is going to be the 13th.

I thought the bad luck thing worked only on Friday the 13th, but today I can confirm that the bad luck for me happens on Wednesday the 13th.

It all started in the very early hours of the morning, 6 o'clock to be precise, when I was trying not to fall asleep and eat my breakfast.
There I am, minding my own business, milk, cereals, and making an effort to keep my eyes open, when my mum today out of the blue and out of character opened my homework diary. It appeared that I was supposed to have done 6 pages of multiplication and division.

Thankfully not much French was involved in this, but we were working with decimal numbers and brain teasers like 0.24 : 0.006. (In Europe, the colon (:) means divide)

We had 20 mins to do this, 35 mins including the journey in the car, which made my writing very messy. Especially in sharp bends and potholes. Mum kept asking wether she is driving slowly enough for me to write neatly. You know they are very strict about handwriting in this part of the world.

To be honest my mums driving made my homework a real mess.

I also had to prioritise and decided which pages to leave blank in hope that the teacher will not get that far in marking.

I must admit I did not have lots of luck with my maths lessons so far. First of all we are always a few minutes late and I have run out of excuses.
  The traffic to school is not helping, and we should also co-ordinate different watches in our house, as they all state a different time and cause confusion.

The maths teacher does not understand this. She expects students to sit in the class upright at 7:45am, NO EXCEPTIONS.
  To add insult to injury, yesterday as I was trying to get a sip of water, one of my teeth fell off. I didn't notice at first, but the tooth was floating in the transparent bottle, and the taste of blood in my mouth was making me feel really unwell. 

I was hoping that it would all go away but the uneasy feeling was making me increasingly sick. So I showed the tooth in the bottle to the teacher, and for good measure I showed her the situation in my mouth. Thankfully she authorised my exit from the classroom.

That was yesterday. I didn't want to come to class without homework today, but it couldn't have been avoided.
  I was stressed and worried that somebody will find out that half of my work is not done. The maths lesson went surprisingly well, and I dropped my guard, pasted a confident smile (-1·000 tooth) and went to French class.

I've noticed that all the children are practising a role-play that we were supposed to memorise. It was a situation in a shoe shop repair. When our dialogue teacher came to my classroom, I suddenly remembered this was indeed our homework.  I started to drown in my own sweat. This did not help.

I was picked to present the dialogue. It went a bit like this:

"J' pay more?"

I tried to improvise and make up a new story, possibly more interesting, but my inspiration left me.
  I tried to tell a joke but realised I don't know any, and even if I did, I wouldn't be able to tell them in French.

The colour on my dialogue teachers face suggested the joke would not be a good idea. I was getting increasingly worried that it will be a long time before I will be able to tell any joke anyway.

After all these attempts I just got something you could call a block. I could not talk. I could not think. I was worried I would get paralysed. My face may also have changed colour. To prevent myself from further embarrassment, I just ran back to my chair while I could. Here, I hid my face behind a paper tissue.

My eyes were stinging with tears and I may have dropped one or two, but if any cool boys are reading this, I DID NOT CRY. The problem was, when I looked up from behind the tissue, they were surrounding my table. The teacher was first making excuses for me, but she gradually fired herself up into attack mode.

She said she does not care how many languages I speak, but I did not do my homework and I should be ashamed of myself. Everyone was watching me.

I read somewhere that there is a lot of energy where your eyes are pointing, and I thought that they were going to fry me with their lasers pointing at me. So naturally, since my legs still supported me, I ran away from the class. My sanctuary happens to be the bathroom again, I remembered how to find it from yesterday.

Here I stayed behind locked doors. Several boys were sent to check up on me, but I ignored this search party. I needed to put my thoughts together in peace.

This was embarrassing beyond explanation. I was contemplating to break another rule and use my mobile in school, phone my parents and demand a lift home.

At the end I decided to be a man. I didn't do my homework and made a mess of things. I went back to the classroom.

The teacher was very nice and said she understood. She also talked to us about how she started to learn a new language. It may have been funny, but not to me. Wednesday the 13th. What can I say?

If anybody has some advice for me (except do your homework) I would be very grateful for your comments.


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