An Average Day

Normally, I'm not the kind of cat to moan about a day, but there's always an exception to every rule.

Today was a really bad day, awful in every sense of the word. I've decided to share it with you so you can all be sorry for me and say “awww...”

I was dragged from the realms of deep sleep by the screeching of my alarm clock. I glared at the blurry green digits with blurry green eyes. My hand fumbled for the switch to silence the dreadful racket, I finally found it and the room descended into blessed peace. I looked at at the clock again, eight thirty.

Oh Damn.

I was going to be late

I leapt out of bed and scrambled to find my clothes. I dove for the nearest black T-shirt and trousers that I could see. Then it was the typical hunt for my brush and the fight to pull the knots out of my fur and to straighten my tail.

I glanced at the clock, eight forty.

I hurtled out of my room, snatching my bag from the floor, and through the kitchen then out of the door, pausing only to snag a muffin from the box on the worktop. I shot down the street, tail streaming out behind me, my claws clicking on the concrete, dodging old people and little kittens on their way to school. I screeched round the school gate and nearly tripped on the rough surface. I jogged the rest of the way to the changing rooms and smacked face first into the door as it closed.

I stood up again and swung the door open to enter the changing rooms with the rest of the girls.

I finally managed to dig my sports kit out from my bag, buried under various books and an empty can of beer.

I'm not sure why I still have that in there. I should have thrown it away when I finished it over two terms ago.

My musings were interrupted as Miss Tate called out the various activities.

Typical, I was forced into doing football again, in my T-shirt and skirt. I finished getting changed and lugged the huge bag full of footballs outside and dragged it to the all weather football pitch. I let go of the rope and the bag slowly rolled over, I turned and started my warm-up lap. I swear that my cursing must have been heard all the way to Australia as I stumbled and pounded my way round the gravel topped pitch, the wind was beginning to blow quite strongly and I was regretting getting out of bed today.

I slid to a halt with the rest of the group just as they started picking the teams, I hate having to work in teams, I'm always last to be picked.

You can take the cat out of the primary school but you can't take the scars of primary school out of the cat. It's stupid really.

They tossed me the goalkeeping gloves, I growled and stormed off to the far end of the pitch and took my place in goal as I tugged the oversized, ancient gloves over my hands.

“Can it get any worse that this?” I whinged to myself.

A large raindrop struck me between the eyes.

“Oh, I just had to say it, didn't I.”

The rain started as massive droplets but soon it was small fast pieces of icy water. I stood, blinded by the driving rain as the wind used the minute drips to devastating effect, sandblasting my face.

I could barely see my team-mates as they screamed and yelled and chased the ball.

The screaming and yelling got closer, I looked up. Uh-oh.

“Look out, Lol!” I distinctly heard screamed over the howling wind.

There was a thump and the world went white.

When I came to I was lying on my back in a puddle with Miss Tate stood over me.

“Are you OK?” She asked in her usual high pitched whining voice.

I picked myself up, shivering in the biting wind made worse by the fact that I was now sopping wet, stared at the football lying there innocently on the ground and tried to wring the water out of my T-shirt.

“Fine. Just fine!” I spat.

Miss Tate grinned and jogged off to chat to someone else, her waterproof coat rustling' with every stride.

I glared back at the football and delivered my most vicious kick to the stupid thing. It shot off into the rain and I heard a smack and a howl of pain.

I grinned, pain is funny when it's happening to someone else.

The rain grew heavier still and was bouncing off the gravel and up my skirt. My grin disappeared.

The pitch was beginning to turn into a swimming pool, with puddles the size of small lakes filling the penalty area. I skirted warily around the edge of one of the bigger puddles to rejoin the game. I heard a giggle and felt a paw in the small of my back. Over I went, face first into the mud and water. I heard the giggle again as I stood up. It was Natalie, that bitch!

“Ooh, look, Lola's going swimming.”

A shrill whistle shattered my plans for revenge and I turned and stomped off, my face lifted to the sky. The heavy rain washed the mud from my face and I felt the cold drops running down my neck. I splashed through the most massive puddle I had ever seen in my life. I was cold and wet but I didn't care any more.

I spent my break in the library, sat with my scarf wrapped around me and a warm computer screen in front of me. I was just beginning to write a little funny story when the bell went and I had to go to English, my trousers leaving a soggy posterior shaped patch on the chair.

I don't mind English because my teacher lets me writ my little stories. I squelched in and dropped into my seat. I dropped my bag onto the floor and tried to find my English book. It was most likely to be at the bottom of my bag, soggy and crushed. I finally extricated the thing and unravelled it. Now to find my pen. I generally have no trouble finding things, I know if I need it it's going to be in there somewhere. I found the dratted pen, crushed and bent.

Damn.

I sat for the next hour watching Miss Lyon writing about comparing poems and I struggled to keep up with my destroyed pen leaking all over my fingers.

I sighed, Biro ink doesn't wash out of fur, not for a long time anyway. I spent the majority of the lesson trying to jot down the poem before the pen completely exploded. The bell finally rang after what seemed like an eternity, and I packed up to leave for maths, the door of the English room slamming behind me, nearly trapping my tail.

I normally don't like maths and this lesson was going to be even more of a pain than usual because Miss Hunt normally left the windows open and I was sure I was going to freeze to death or something.

I plonked myself on the chair and scrabbled in the bottom of my bag for a new pen, my fingers brushed across one.

Aha!

But I just couldn't quite reach it. I turned and put my other arm into my bag, Miss Hunt looked at me strangely, I finally tugged it free.

Well, it would have to do.

My head dropped onto my hand and I sat staring at a board covered in numbers and squiggles, My mind drifted to my own little world. There are times I wish I could run away and leave this stinking world far behind.

“Lola, seeing as you seem to be getting divine inspiration, maybe you can answer this question?”

I jumped and scanned the board where she was pointing.

I had not a hope in hell.

“Er... is it... forty-two?”

Miss Hunt smirked.

“You've not been paying attention. Your grades are definitely falling as it is.”

I sunk deeper into the chair and she went to pick on someone else. I picked up my pen and copied the entire board into my book. It seemed fairly difficult but it probably wasn't.

She went on to tell us to complete questions sixty-seven and sixty-eight. I flipped the sheet over.

Oh crap. The entire page was covered in tiny numbers, letters and diagrams.

I had no chance of even finding questions sixty-seven and sixty-eight, let alone solving them.

I spent the remainder of the lesson struggling to find the questions and concentrating on not freezing to death.

I lurched off to the library when lesson finally ended. I wanted to finish off my story. I sat on the same chair as before. The damp patch was still there. I hate my life.

I plugged my headphones in and listened to music to cheer me up. Pink Floyd always makes me happy again.

With only fifteen minutes left of my dinner hour left, I lurched back out of the library and found a bench to sit on that wasn't covered in gum. I started sketching Fraiser, the German shepherd in my class, as he put the smackdown on five Year ten students. Misty wandered over and dropped onto the bench and sat watching the wrestling match while eating a chocolate bar. Nothing much happens in our school worth watching so someone pounding the living daylights out of someone else is always guaranteed to get some interest. She flicked the wrapper into the bin and looked over at my drawing.

“Nice... Where do you get your inspiration from?”

I pointed towards the utter carnage and Fraiser. She snorted and waved at him. He stopped with one of them in a headlock and waved back.

She pulled her organiser out of the side of her bag and flipped through to her timetable. She looked at our next lesson and blanched.

“Ek... Double chemistry, with that stupid cow again.”

I put my pencil down and tugged her organiser round so I could see it.

“Oh... Crap. That just sucks!”

Fraiser gave up with the little students and wobbled off towards the drinks machine, we watched him go.

“You know... I think I'm in love...”

I stifled a laugh. Misty turned to me, with an offended look on her face.

“Oh... Typical, I tell you my feelings and you just laugh!”

I tore out the page of my jotter and handed it to her. She took it and folded it into her pocket.

Misty stood up and walked away, leaving me with my thoughts. I yelped, my thoughts were scary.

“Misty. Miiiistyyyy! Wait for Meeeee!”

I ran after her.

I'm pretty sure the assembly was the same as every other assembly ever, I don't know because I slept through it.

As we strolled out through the double doors, Misty poked me in the ribs and whispered

“It's a good job you don't snore.”

I coughed and tried to cover my embarrassment. I don't normally fall asleep in assembly, I normally make it through to chemistry before dozing off.

Misty hugged me and walked away, she had physics. Lucky her, I had saved the worst for last. Everybody hated my chemistry teacher, we were all pretty sure she hated herself, too.

Today's snooze-fest was all about the structure of the atom or something. I just doodled in the back of my book for the entire lesson while she stood at the front of the room, wasting time by screaming about how we kept wasting time.

I couldn't wait to get home, get some dry clothes on and lie on my bed listening to my music again. Oh, joy. My life sucks.

Just another average day in the life of your average black cat.