Mondays

I've got nothing to write about today so I though I would stick in an excerpt from a story I wrote a year ago in eighth grade. Plus I'm really mad I have to go to school in less than two days from now.

I awoke to the sound of my alarm clock, blaring incessantly, tearing me away from sleep. I slammed the snooze button, even when I knew it didn’t do me any good. I fell back to sleep for a few minutes, but only to have the clock ring again as programmed. This time, sleep had left me again.

I tore myself away from the warm sheets and pillows to meet the harsh morning. As usual, I took my shower and dried off, thinking my normal Monday thoughts. This is stupid. Why do we have school today? Why do we have school at all? I always had these sorts of thoughts on Mondays, and this one was no different.

After getting dressed I walked downstairs to the kitchen to scrounge some breakfast. Bagel? Cereal? Toast? I grabbed the quickest meal available to me- a breakfast bar from the cupboard- and ate it while climbing back up the stairs. Andy had just gotten up and dressed, and we passed through the hall silently.

I brushed my teeth and gathered up my things for school, just beginning to worry about the half-dozen assignments that I hadn’t done. It was late in the morning by now, so I didn’t wait for Andy, but got my bike ready once I was packed. It was a cold morning, and the nine-block ride, albeit I had a jacket, numbed my fingers and made me shiver. Upon reaching the school, I harbored a tremendous temptation to turn around and do something useful or fun for the day, but I resisted as usual. After all, it was just another Monday.

I stepped into the gymnasium to face the day that awaited me. A few of my classmates looked as I walked in and greeted me, but most looked apathetic, concealing their own storms of anger. Not that I expected anything more; they were all as mad at the world as I was. Monday did this to people, especially students and teachers. There was something about this godforsaken day that put everybody in bad moods.

Mark, Luke, and John were three of my closest friends. Mark was a Hispanic boy who I had known since first grade. He was very strong and knew enough weak points and body locks to beat the crap out of nearly anyone in a fair fight. Luke, I had known since third or fourth grade, and though obnoxious and a bit short, was fun to be around. John was a huge, burly character who had joined the class just this year, but he immediately fit in with us and was soon a close friend of mine. I hung with them until the bell rung and we shuffled off toward homeroom.

Algebra was our first period subject, but it seemed like stupid placement to me. Most assignments that you forget to do can be done throughout the day, but not for Algebra, and when there was an assignment virtually every day, there were few days where we didn’t have homework. Mrs. Higgins was our teacher, and she was pretty nice, but I still had to go to the library to try to catch up with the math that I didn’t do. I tried to do the work that was assigned, but you always had to have a good calculator, which I didn’t have at home. And the math seemed so repetitive after a while, it was hard not to be sidetracked. I finished the unfinished work and got my late grade as usual. After all, it was just another Monday.