04 // voice
Right. When I agreed to attend school, no one told me that there was a bloody dress code. I thought things in this bright future were s'pposed to be more relaxed, more casual, more devil-may-care and shoelaces untied and everyone doing as they pleased. I mean, everyone goes straight home and puts on whatever they feel like wearing as is, so why do we have to go to school and pretend at formalities?
I knew that I wasn't going to enjoy this whole bit, I just had no idea as to the depths of my dislike. Whoever came up with the idea of four additional years of schooling ought to be drawn and quartered and hexed straight off the map. And I swear on Merlin's twisted old knotty beard, if one more person in these registration offices gives me some swotty look and suggests that I locate a bloody tie before the start of term, I will not be held responsible for the fate that befalls them. I'll just have to let that departmental secretary stand as example to the rest of them. Imagine, instructing me to clean my fingernails before term begins. They aren't even at their worst.
And there are advance reading lists, as usual. I signed up for courses a bit late, right, and I'm yet expected to read three chapters in the driest textbook known to man. I fell asleep over the first line. I can't be expected to read these sorts of things in a dress shirt, I'll keel straight over and expire. [A slight pause, then, with an evident grin:] Although, Moony, there apparently aren't any corridor rules. S'ppose they've never needed them before. Bit of a break, that, wouldn't you say!
Seriously. Urgh. A tie this heat? Are they mad at Hawthorne bloody University? I'm going to go down to that poisoned lake and drown myself, shall I, and all problems--dress clothing, ties, school courses, rotting limbs, hellish temperatures, bloody stupid everything--all of it will be solved. If only there were a giant squid to keep me company in my watery grave, but I s'ppose one can't have everything in life.
I knew that I wasn't going to enjoy this whole bit, I just had no idea as to the depths of my dislike. Whoever came up with the idea of four additional years of schooling ought to be drawn and quartered and hexed straight off the map. And I swear on Merlin's twisted old knotty beard, if one more person in these registration offices gives me some swotty look and suggests that I locate a bloody tie before the start of term, I will not be held responsible for the fate that befalls them. I'll just have to let that departmental secretary stand as example to the rest of them. Imagine, instructing me to clean my fingernails before term begins. They aren't even at their worst.
And there are advance reading lists, as usual. I signed up for courses a bit late, right, and I'm yet expected to read three chapters in the driest textbook known to man. I fell asleep over the first line. I can't be expected to read these sorts of things in a dress shirt, I'll keel straight over and expire. [A slight pause, then, with an evident grin:] Although, Moony, there apparently aren't any corridor rules. S'ppose they've never needed them before. Bit of a break, that, wouldn't you say!
Seriously. Urgh. A tie this heat? Are they mad at Hawthorne bloody University? I'm going to go down to that poisoned lake and drown myself, shall I, and all problems--dress clothing, ties, school courses, rotting limbs, hellish temperatures, bloody stupid everything--all of it will be solved. If only there were a giant squid to keep me company in my watery grave, but I s'ppose one can't have everything in life.