I usually do ok in math (relative to the morons around me, a chipmunk could do ok in Mr. Harvick's algebra II class) and most of the class knows that. Mr. Harvick is not so in touch with the world that he can recognize cheating when he sees it, although, to his credit, he does a wonderful Nixon impersonation.  Bob Lacki is a brain dead student but a very proficient cheater. He is obviously copying my work but he is so poor in intellect, one can't help but feel pity, and allow him to do so. There's not much I could do about it anyway. He copies my work and the guy next to him copies Bob's work because hey, you gotta copy something. The guy next in line copies his, and so on, and so on. I smile widely when I am absolutely sure I haven't the foggiest idea what I'm doing.

     Ah, yes, science in the new and improved FWISD plan to save America's educational future. Let's put the dumbest kids in with the smartest kids so everyone can get nothing done.  Makes sense to me. Kids used to make up raps about the teacher, Dr. Nick, while tapping a funky beat with a pencil / wrist combo motion. He was powerless to halt this degradation of character for long, because flogging of students had long been frowned upon by the higher ups. The girl who sat next to me often talked of her loving boyfriend, Jesse, who was in jail.  She even showed me the tatoo she had of his name. She was dumb as a brick. I think working at 7-11 would've taxed her intellect too much. Welfare here we come. A very frustrating thing that I had to deal with was the cheating. Kids will boldly snatch my paper from me and circulate it around the room.  What can I do? These guys could pummel me into oblivion. Best to live to see another day. Some even go so far as to snatch my papers off the teacher's desk after I turn them in.  When the teacher isn't looking right at her desk, they just run up and grab it.  What can one do?  Nothing. We've got a bright future ahead, America.
 
 

     I woke up half frozen because I went to bed with the window open. The alarm radio was playing some ultra-stale 50's song with some dude attempting a dramatic opera voice but only succeeding at producing a weak gruff; truly laughable. To make things worse, it was 6:33 and not 6:00. I had to hurry to be ready and I didn't get to watch the news. And as a coup de grace, somebody had used up the last sugar in the sugar bowl and I had to refill it. By the time I had done that, my cereal was a repulsive soft glob of brown matter. Wholly unappetizing. I became woozy.
     At school, 7:25.  I had arrived later than my preference because Dad had been in a comatose state 10 minutes after I initially woke him.  I only had 5 minutes and I didn't want to be late, so I forfeited the trip to my locker.
     After band, I had to go to my locker because I hadn't done so before and consequently I was late to second period. Once again I must comment on the faculty who, in their infinite wisdom, have reduced the temperature in the building to a cozy 50 F. We did vocabulary in English and German. I hate vocabulary-it makes my hand hurt.
     But the climax of the day (I love this) was 6th period World History spent joyously with the always competent...Mr. Perkins! I trust you to detect the extreme sarcasm in this case. Please observe that my handwriting is not drastically different than before, indicating I am calm. Please note that I am unbiased in my comments regarding the following.
     The always-in-command Mr. Perkins checked role in record time! (23.5 minutes) and promised a review to our innocent little class. Yes folks, this IS the FWISD. Sensing the urgent need for a review (a session where he tells us the test questions verbatim), I shut my mouth. My cooperative peers chose not to. How nice.
     Mr. Perkins, contesting that he was being unnecessarily nice, called us up one by one and told us our average.  I went up there to see my plump 23.0 average.  Naturally I was concerned.  I asked him what the 3 zeros were on the paper.  He flared his nostrils and gritted his teeth.  His eyes shut and then I realized that he had PMS!  Not possible?!  You've never been around Mr. Perkins, have you?  No human could contort their face like the amazing Mr. Perkins!  He squinted his eyes and attempted to be nice.  I sat down at my desk.
     Later he explained what I was missing in a roundabout way (the Perkins way). I stayed after school to do makeup work. Mr Perkins, who always adheres strictly to school policies, insisted that the highest possible grade that could be achieved through makeup work was a 70.  A 70 was better than a zero so I answered the 3 questions for the 70. I was infuriated, as was my companero, Chris Scotto. We went to see Mr. Mann, the guy supposedly in charge of this area, and he deferred to the counselor. Bureaucracy!!! Ahhh!!!
     I got home around 4:45 very exhausted. I fell asleep right away and slept until 9:30. I woke up with a headache and a pile of books shadowing over me at my desk. I was very hungry but in a mood where I didn't want to eat anything. I felt kind of sick. Dad had overcooked the spaghetti and burnt the meatballs which made up my dinner. I was so sick of Coke and we were out of milk so I drank Kool Aid, but it was black cherry flavor.  I'm not too fond of black cherry flavor Kool Aid.
     I labored at my homework until 11:30 at which time I went back to bed.  But I stayed awake, maddeningly, until 1:30 with a cold face and sweaty legs.