I kind of miss that mind numbing boredom of being in a classroom... remember the absolute soul destroying mind eating blurring chunks of time, interspersed with those moments of terror of braving the hallways and stairwells, getting bashed in the back of the head by errant school bags and tripping up every second step... and hoping, just hoping to catch a glimpse of Brad, Craig, Alistair or whoever you were currently in love with, and of course avoiding those absolute cows who ruled the world, you know the ones who are all real estate agents now.
No offence to real estate agents was intended by my previous sentence, because I know quite a few who are really quite lovely and normal, but we all remember those shiny girls, who have gone on to become brassy women, well where I live they all seem to be selling real estate, or cars, or white goods.
My point is that I miss those hours of class time where there was nothing to do other than stare out the window, at the back of David's neck - hey don't mock, he had a pretty amazing back of his neck, front of neck and pretty much everything else. Sadly he was rarely in my class and I was never tall enough to see out of half the windows, so I was left to fill my books with doodles and little sketches and meaningless decorations for no other reason than if I didn't then I would scream. I can remember very few lessons that I sat through, even fewer skills that I picked up, but I can remember the endless drawing and doodling. I can actually picture some of them in quite a bit of detail. There are of course none still in existence so I can say with confidence that I remember them in detail... but I actually think I do.
So this week I decided to revisit the calm and joy of those doodles in my journal. This one is called Ode to David's Neck and I remember clearly being in the Lockie block and covering the inside back cover of my business principles book over the course of a few lessons when he of the beautiful neck was off doing whatever or just being beautiful and perfect somewhere else... and this week, for a brief time, I was fifteen again and there was nothing to do but fill the page with colour and pattern. No washing and dishes, no bills to pay, no floors to wash or schedules to organise... just colour and line and it was bliss!