So, halfway through the time scale and not even a quarter way through the marking pile! Somethings not quite going to plan here.
I did think I may have some wonderful snippets of teenage humour to enlighten you with, hoping bored pens scrawling about books they've been forced to read, decide to include how they think Steinbeck was into bestiality and Duffy a raving dyke who needs a good seeing to. But, unfortunately, they stuck me on higher, so they're all a bit too serious, or too focused on the Ferrari or villa they are going to receive for passing their GCSEs. I got 20 quid, you over indulged parasites!
The bits I have enjoyed reading are far too boring to share and fill me with that suffocating weight of envy for the talent they hold in their unfledged brains.
Otherwise life continues around me... I dip in and out of reality, as I'm haunted by scripts when I step away from the desk. I dream about taking my own exams, again, naked again... except for a school tie. Let's not get excited though, the teenage body is replaced by a post-childbirth one!
Right now the children are fighting over a pack of bubbles. Why I didn't buy 2 I have no idea - there were 49p - purse must have been sparse that day. The eldest is about to hyperventilate from aggressive bubble blowing and the youngest is soon to tire of reaching for the wand that will always be out of reach and kick him in the shin!
Cue: tears. Cue: Blog time over!