Here’s an awesome picture Suzi drew yesterday in textiles.
I sometimes wonder why I chose textiles for GCSE, then I remember: to be in a class full of girls. Sadly it is nothing like the dream I had in Year 9 when choosing my options.
I spend each lesson chatting to Suzi and Sophie about random rubbish until I receive a hard poke to the pancreas. I turn around and see either a smiling Sita or the back of Sita’s head. When it is the latter she will pretend it wasn’t her for a moment and then turn around. We will chat for a bit until the sound of shouting penetrates our conversation. This means that someone on the far table has decided to fall out with someone, who is often Mrs Craigon. Mrs Craigon will almost always send someone out of the class. The young offender will stand outside the glass door and pull faces to the delight of our class.
With all the excitement about, no one ever notices me turn into a cat and leave.
Me
