Grown- ups think “How hard could it be?” It could be very, very hard. They think you go to an enjoyable day at school, learning the information the world has to offer. You then go home and practice a little in each subject and take the rest of the day off.
There could not be a worse representation of the facts. You learn nothing in school. You go home and stay up till, oh, eleven thirty or so, and go to bed. There is no free time.
The homework isn’t fun either. No, it is quite possibly the bane of my existence. Hour after hour, the only sound in my house is the sound of my pencil scratching on paper. Scritch, scritch. I hate it. Hours upon hours of boredom. Desolation. Silence.
I wake up the next day, and all I have to look forward to is more of the same.
Oh summer, where are you? I fear I may be going insane. Maybe I already am.