Double Country

Just back from first cross-country run. Bloody horrendous. My hands are so cold I can’t actually do up the buttons on my shirt so not sure how I’m going to be able to attend classes this afternoon. Might just have to give them a miss. Not particularly in the mood for double Othello anyway. For some reason Mrs Simms has decided that when we read it out the girls should read the boys parts and the boys should read the girls. Some sick mind game of her invention no doubt. She’s such an oddball. I think she self-harms. The other day she put her leg up on the desk and scratched her kneecap so violently that she drew blood through her tights. Annabelle Grimes was almost sick. Simms barely noticed. That’s not natural surely..?

Ralph assures me that normally the whole cross country experience is a lot more enjoyable. Unfortunately Slab Jennings (the demon sportsmaster) decided to lead the run this time so there was no shirking off and disappearing into the pub for a few ales. We were going for over an hour. I think I understand what shin splints feel like now. I’ll give it another go next week without staff intervention and see how it goes.

House drinks in Hargreaves flat for the upper sixths tonight. Bring on the beer! I think he’s inviting Mr Wendell to join us tonight. Slightly bricking it that they’ll start discussing my embellished tales of dysfunctional families. If they do I’ll just have to see if I can cry again. Should be easier with a few drinks inside me. Failing that I’ll have to hope that Dominic Lafferty gets so drunk he goes into one of his rages and starts slamming doors and raging against the elitist nature of public school hierarchy. Bloody ginger tosser.