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A Life In The Day Of...

Extracts from this document...

Introduction

Christian Collins At around 7: ooam on yet another dull and monotonous school day, my alarm rings. The shrill ear-piercing sounds and death-dance of my mobile phone attempts almost vainly to bring me back from oblivion. So loud that in the process of waking me up this wakes the rest of the house as well, (this will later make me the victim of taunts, mocking and severe punch-ups between my three older brothers and.........me). I am usually forced out of bed, like a caterpillar breaking away from its cocoon, or tormented until I come round with the use of such agonizing instruments or procedures as the wet flannel or the glass of water over my head. After my torment and persecution, I stagger across the room with eyes still glazed over from around 8 hours of glorious sleep and, with an omnipotent thud, strike my hazily strike my ongoing alarm clock and watch it fall to the ground. With my eyes still twitching, gradually opening to the sight of raw sunlight gleaming through my curtains that have been rudely opened by my insensitive mother, I eventually make it to the bathroom and, because of our feeble, pathetic and broken shower, decide to run a bath. Cleanliness and external appearance is of great importance to me and a lot of other people coming through in this new generation. ...read more.

Middle

And comments from my mother like "you need to get more organised", "your brother was never like this", and the old favourite - "your father and I used to walk 10 miles just to get to school...and in our bare feet", only seek to annoy me. After the complex procedure of getting everybody in the car, the journey commences at about 8:15am and the complete journey involves my younger sister crying for "the cheeky girls" and me in the front arguing my right to either revise or select my choice of radio station, if not against my sister, then my mother. It is the usual battle of Galaxy fm v Radio 4. As I arrive at school, my mother's somewhat futile attempts to park the car and later assault me, by trying to kiss me on the cheek amuse my friends as they pass. Once at school I immediately drop my bags and proceed to the metro station, an unofficial youth club, to meet my friends. However this all seems rather tedious until the Central High girls arrive and the sight of a mini-skirt makes the wait completely worthwhile. The day monotonously goes by, with each lesson inevitably uninteresting in its own way, until the joy of the long-awaited tuck-shop is appreciated, with its selection of fine sweets and hot, steaming succulent sandwiches, each as good as each other. ...read more.

Conclusion

There is also my sister wanting someone to play with her, the noise of the computer and the television. And, due to my other brother's strange profession of being a busker, he is forever making absurd things for his show, for example hammering nails into a bed of nails. Even though it always seems that as soon as I get started, my mother or father is calling for dinnertime and lamenting the fact that the family never eats together enough and so I never get started. But I always try to complete my homework's, even if it means staying up past midnight. However I do get to take my breaks, when my mother is busy, I sneak into the games room for a quick fifteen minutes on my play station, or sometimes just downstairs to watch television, with the repeated arguments every night over who gets to choose what programme to watch, with the forever ongoing debate or war over The Simpsons v The Discovery Channel. At long last I reach bedtime. As I return to the bliss of my furry, comfortable and warm bed, like a baby crawling back to its womb. Exhausted from going to bed too late after playing on the play station for too long and planning to go to bed early tomorrow night, I drift off to sleep, but we all know it will never happen, don't we? 1 Christian Collins 10JB. ...read more.

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