Emily Willis, Charlotte Carlisle, Hannah Coward….. I feel like I’m in the movie “Schindler’s List” except this list is endless. Then comes the weekly moan. I feel like Santa; who’s been naughty? Who’s been nice? Before break I have two lessons; on Monday its SPS then drama. SPS gives me the time to catch up on all the work I was supposed to do over the weekend, but somehow found other things better to do with my life. At break time all is silent apart from the occasional sound of “any room in the toaster” well, all is like that until you open the door to my room. Every break the beds are loaded with girls, some adjusting their hair, all speaking like it’s the first time they have ever met. After break it’s German and maths for me; these are the moments I learn to despise this place.
Lunch is a magical time, there’s a choice of what? Five different meals, okay they’re not Michelin style but they’ll do for me. The only thing I seem to see others eating is out of date bread they named “The Crouton” because of its crunchiness.
Sport! Not for me! I have the privilege of being in the school play. Antigone is a play of history and war… I’m a bug; this is my chance in the spotlight, the main bug dance, only if life was that simple, never for me! In the middle of a crawl, I slip and fall off the stage… off to health centre again. I must have been to health centre at least five times this week. They should award me with a loyalty card; five stamps and a free paracetamol, ive not always been this clumsy, in fact I was so steady on my feet I once aspired to be a gold medallist tightrope walker, my balance was impeccable.
After play is another lesson; for me it’s usually resistant materials, which if im not careful could end up with another trip to health centre (and more loyalty points). Resistant materials; some people think it is a boys subject but with us three girls getting the leading scores in the exam, I beg to differ! To be honest the whole system of this school is pretty embarrassing, it started as an all boys school but look who took over? My bet, in fifteen years it will be an ALL-GIRLS school. Imagine that. My new aspiration is to rule an all-girls school, brilliant!
Home time! Can’t wait… I’m back to Illawarra no home for me tonight. Being a Part Boarder means I only go home to my mad family on Wednesdays and weekends. My parents are divorced which means alternating between houses. This isn’t always a bad thing; it just means if I forgot to do my prep I have an excuse “sorry Sir I left my prep book at my dad’s house… I’m at my mum’s” which usually results in a “don’t worry Sian, hope everything works out.”
Once back at Illawarra there’s another Muster. These evening Musters always end up with a loud cacophony of laughter after Bertie the house dog does some silly act. Last muster, we all heard a squeak and looked up to find a very annoyed Mrs.John yelling at Mrs.Bastin to clean up after her misbehaved dog. I have to say Bertie is not the best behaved he hates everyone and spends all his day skulking around the house. Last time I tried to be nice I took him on a walk which resulted in him being frozen stiff and wetting himself out of fear. Not a good idea. I have my own dog now, poor thing she’s so cute, but unlike Bertie the only time she scared is if she eats my food- then she’s in trouble.
After Muster it is first prep which does not usually end up with a lot of work being done, seeing as halfway through all the girls seem to descend into rooms which are not theirs and pick out the outfit for supper. Now supper unlike, lunch is sometimes quite nice, well 50% of the time that is, the other 50% being the chefs trying very hard to impress and not succeeding such as pizza night for example. Dressing up in hats and moustaches isn’t going to make the pizza taste any better unfortunately.
Back from supper and more prep. It doesn’t seem to end. When it does finally end its free time until bed. In our free time we usually don’t go out because that involves going down to St.George in the dark which at times can be worth it but sometimes not especially when Miss.Vetter turns you down at the door. After we’ve been out we usually sneak in due to the lack of permission slips that we have “lost” on our long and vast journey across parade ground. This usually ends in us having to clean the galley, which I can tell you is not a pleasant job due to the only things being eaten in there are either sticky or slimy. Not a good combination.
Finally off to bed, that is unless the other girls sneak into our room for a midnight chat pretending to have homesickness just so they can stay and sleep on the comfort of my floor. Once everything is settled I snuggle down into my tiny bed and dream for the night until …. Beep beep beep my alarm even goes off on Sunday…PARADE!
Parade has to be the worst thing about this school, it is a pure day devoted to something I pretty sure none of the students wants to do. In ten years time on exactly this day, I will be the first female president signing against the torture of weekend schooling for students.
