Of course I had not done nearly as much work as I had originally intended to do. Procrastination has become such a large part of me that I simply cannot bring myself to work before anything is due. Not that I haven't been trying, but it's just not working. I was supposed to have finished this novel about Ned Kelly by tomorrow, and having done jack all last week, I was only 30 pages in by Saturday morning. I am now 300 pages further, but the book itself is roughly 470 pages long. That's what I hate about English- reading is such a torment. It's a good novel, I'll admit that- but it's not very fascinating or captivating. I could easily put down the novel and any point, without caring what happened next, and never touch it again. In fact, even as I read I feel the story going out of my head. It worries me as the exam is in something like 2 weeks, and I doubt my ability to retain details for that long.
The weekend is not only bad due to my work (or rather, lack of work), but my parents contribute to my agitation, as always. Just then at the dinner table, Dad raised the topic of my university entrance score. There's a scaling test which I'm supposed to sit in a couple of weeks, and he's totally got the wrong idea. He thinks that if our school does well, we can get extra points "added" to our entrance scores. While it is likely that our entrance scores will increase, he's totally got the wrong idea about this "adding" thing. I roll my eyes in frustration, because this topic has been raised by him for nearly the millionth time, and my Mother starts glaring at me like she knew I was about to commit a sin. I'm glad I disappointed her in that aspect. I don't know whether it's just me, but I interpret her expressions most negatively. As I rose to leave the table she called out to me to wash the dishes, because apparently I hadn't done them last night. I recall washing plenty of them for lunch, but never mind that. I wonder if she kept a tally somewhere.
I wish summer were here already. It would still be light by now. When I wake up so late in the mornings it is night only a few hours later, and I wonder whether my day has gone. I'm a very slow reader, so having to finish a book which bores me is quite a chore. The "knock before you enter" sign on my door has proven useless, my parents ignore its presence--- Dad barges in as usual and Mum knocks once then proceeds to turn the handle anyway.
...My room looks like a dump for some reason- I suppose it has been quite a while since I last cleaned it, but I do not quite understand where all this trash is coming from. I suppose a large proportion of it comes from my baby sister- she's cute and everything, but recently I've grown to dislike her. I suppose it's a phase all older siblings must pass through- but the way she constantly screams, cries and bursts into my room without warning (kinda like Dad) is wearing down my nerves.
It feels awful to wish for the abolishment of weekends altogether. I'm thinking that I would not mind if school were on endless repeat...
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