Living in the middle of nowhere is an attractive prospect to me right now. No exams, no dire conversation, and no rude people. Arrogance is not attractive. Arrogance is the kind of thing that will make me whack you around the head with my revision folder (that very nearly happened), or have me yelling ‘THE F*CKING CHEEK ON CHILDREN THESE DAYS’ in the middle of the corridor (that did happen).
I should have kept my composure. But I didn’t. I’d already had a conflict with a dinner lady (because I didn’t grovel to ask her to move her elephantine body out of the doorway, I merely said ‘excuse me’), and I was ready to declare war. And all it took was a year 8 – small, greasy-haired, and deserves a kick up the backside – to make me (nearly) lose it. I was merrily filling up my water bottle, merrily chatting to An Attractive Member of the Opposite Sex, when said small child walks up behind me, tuts, and makes pointed comments about how long I’m taking. His witty remarks included ‘Excuse me, but you need to hurry up. I’m waiting.’ and ‘How long does it take to fill a bottle up? You’re nearly done, can you go now?’ It wasn’t even my fault! I was innocent! The water fountains are notoriously slow! So! The little shit needed to shut the hell up and accept the fact that waiting is part of life!
I’ve noticed that this is a growing trend in the years below me at school. I don’t know if I’m becoming grumpier (which is highly likely), or simply because many of the younger generation (Ha! I’m 16! Why am I on about the younger generation?) have grown egos larger than their oversized Kanken bags. Up until the start of year 10 (aged 14-15), I was terrified of the Year 11s. Tall, mature, they carried a serenity that reminded me of Gandalf. Now I am Year 11, I’m not Gandalf. I am frazzled, panicked and motivated to revise because I know that if I get awful GCSEs, I’m going to get awful A Levels and an awful job. I wish I was Gandalf.
I’m finding that I’m being barged out of the way by children, and in generally they’re being unbelievably rude. I can’t remember being like that. Maybe it’s because they’re growing up very, very quickly. Now they’re all made-up and iPhone-d and social media famous. Back in the good old days, I had a Nokia, looked as if I got dressed in the dark and read books. Which is exactly what I’m like now, in all honesty. They’ve been taught that satisfaction and knowledge is instantaneous, and so these young people think that everything else is too.
And this mindset will lead to their downfall, and the occasional yell as yet another one of my ring binder hits its unfortunate target.
Personal side note: I sound bitter, but that’s because I’m tired and panicky and feel guilty that I’m three books behind on my Goodreads schedule. I’m also guilty because I’ve done no art, no maths and instead of revision I’ve been trying to rescue said Goodreads schedule.
*Panic by The Smiths plays softly in the background, then intensifies*