The end of term is drawing oh-so-very-near and I have never felt this impatient in a very long time. Everything seems to be moving so slowly, the more I impatiently think about it. It drives me a little crazy sometimes. I won't stop thinking about next Wedsneday. I just won't! It feels like such a big deal, when it isn't. After all, it's just the day I come home. Come on, nineteen days later and I'll be back in Sydney for another term.

The days are growing tired. I am literally exhausted by the end of the day. Every morning, I am forced to wake up at 6am to switch the dorm lights off (because the light programs are all screwed up), since the switches are in my bedroom. After I do my job, I am allowed only 20 minutes to go back to sleep - 20 minutes before Judy and Kathy wake up for their morning jog. For 10 minutes, I am constantly working my mind into a short sleep, but fail at every cost. If I'm lucky, Jude and Kathy would have prepared their gear the night before - if not, I endure the pain of trying to go to sleep in the middle of cupboard door slamming, the rustling sound of plastic bags, the umph of someone tripping over a school bag and the loud sound made from the impact of drawers.

When this ordeal is over, I have approximately half an hour to sleep before the rest of the boarding house is awaken. Unfortunately, I never fall asleep. My mind battles with the little sounds coming from the toilets, located just outside my dorm. The sound of the running taps, loud fans, toilet door slamming into the partitions and people having a quick chat.

So I basically start the day at 6.30 in the morning (today I didn't have to wake up at 6 because I learnt a new trick in switching off the lights). I suppose it's good. I get a head start to the day. Heh. What a lie.

I've been thinking of my old days back in AISM - again. Oh no, I told myself. Not that I don't like thinking of the past and remembering the good old days. It's just that I don't like to leave myself in the past, while the present is still moving forward at full speed. I miss the small things that made everything about my time at AISM great (regardless of how crap the school was).

I remember the times we begged our Science teacher (Mr Yates and Mr Pollock) to show us the explosive reaction of water and sulphuric acid. We used to burn the ceiling of the old school building every end of year. We would point up at the ceiling and say, "Hey, that was us last year. Remember?" Three times it was. Three beautiful, dangerous times did we burn the Science lab's ceiling.

I remember Country Mart's lunch food back at the old school, when I was in Year 7 and 8. I remember the order forms and the order form box. I remember the nice Hainanese Chicken Rice. I remember the fantastic Chicken and Cashew Nut. I remember the horrid sandwiches they made. I remember the polystyrene (sp?) boxes the lunches would come in. I remember sitting outside the fishbowl class to eat lunch. I remember Ken, this little boy (who was a little weird) who used to bend like a licorice stick. Nat (I think it was Nat) and I said that he would one day become president. I can't remember why.

I remember the long bus ride from home to school. I remember the smell of petrol that reeked throughout the entire length of the bus. I remember the weird boy called Aryaman, who fiddled with all the airconditioning thingamabobs on the bus. He made sure they pointed in the direction he liked. I remember my seat. The seat where I always sat. I remember putting my bag down, taking a text book (oh yes, I was like that) out (probably because I had an exam that morning!), then taking out my new fat iPod (before, it would have been a CD Player with a burnt CD of my favourite Japanese and Rock music), unrolling the earphones and finally listening to my music. I remember Hoobastank and Lostprophets.

I remember the lunch breaks we had at the new school. I remember meeting Nurie for the first time. She told us we could call her Luna Lovegood. I remember the sick jokes we'd make about tables, spoons, forks and fruit flies. I remember helping out behind the tuckshop counter. I remember sitting at that long, yellow table, with [I'm mentioning names today] Nurie, Nat, Ew-Jun, Shaza, Tom, Suriani, Zae and of course, Ismadi (who we used to tease about some particle cannon in the sky. Whatever that was...) - joking around, playing cards and listening and singing along to music. Gay Bar music ;)

Those were the days, hey?

I'll be home soon. Give me a few days.

Let's start a war! Start a nuclear war!
At the gay bar! Gay bar! GAY BAR!

Cheers.