As I slouch back in this uncomfortable library chair, the damn library assistant babbles on about redecorating her bedroom to some poor teacher who just wandered in. The poor bastard isn’t even a real teacher; he’s just some substitute who has never been to this school before and just wanted to see what was behind the two large wooden doors in the hallway. He stumbled through the doors and got a decent look at the place. But right as he was about to leave, he made the fatal error of establishing eye contact with the library assistant. And once you do that, you’re done.
It’s ironic in a way. All my life, I’ve been told to be as quiet as possible when in libraries. And I always am. Except for right now – pounding my fingers down on the keys and watching the corresponding letters blink up on the screen. Technology is crazy like that. I mash a button in front of me and the letter magically appears on the screen. No actual physical labor involved other than depressing a small button.
But that doesn’t really matter right now. What does matter is that I don’t make much noise in libraries except for the constant “clackity-clack” of the keyboard going off. Not that I can hear that right now over the dull roar that is now my school library. The substitute left a while back, and the librarian ran off somewhere else, but now I have a damn zoo for a class of students in here with me.
Sure, I know these swine. I’ve known them throughout my entire school experience. They are my fellow classmates, my senior friends, the South Western High School class of 2004. No, not the entire class of two-hundred fifty some odd kids, just about twenty from a current issue class. But still, when these bastards and bastresses bust into this library, all hell breaks loose. They yell to each other from across the library. They play farting sounds on the computer. They manage to get the copy-machine to emit a loud screeching sound. But worst of all, they sit right next to me and stare at me while I try to type.
Well, not all of them. Just a fellow senior/friend I know named Leo. Right now he’s babbling on about printing twenty-six pages about fucking Reebok for some damn project he’s working on. And the guy next to him hits the print button and calls him a pussy. Then Leo laughs and says “Oh well,” and runs off to the printer. That’s what going on beside me right now, and it’s annoying as hell when you are trying to write a semi-coherent article about being a senior in the last couple months of high school.
There you go, I gave it all away. I started off this article trying to write something about how I’m a senior in high school, and I’m sick of going to school everyday and doing homework and taking tests and thinking about college, albeit in a messed up sort of way. But I ended up getting sidetracked and ranting about whatever came to mind
In a way, that kind of sums up my feelings towards high school right now. I have a few things I want to do that aren’t school related (writing this blog dealy), but minor school things keep getting in the way (librarians, amazement at technology, Leo). I guess it did work out after all. Fate has a funny way of working things out for me, but that’s another article altogether.
