A day of pondering and reason, mixed with an undeniable lust for creativity.
My ears, I think, are really sensitive. That, or they have trusted the silence so much that they won't break free from it. When I'm in the library, nowadays studying, all I hear is nothing and my ears are so used to hearing such stillness. Then when I head back to the Ravenclaw dormitory, everyone talks in such quiet voices that it's rare to hear someone scream or shout (unless, of course, it's Quidditch Day and then you can usually hear everyone whispering loudly everywhere). My ears hurt when unexpected noises - very loud, they always are - make their way through the air. My ears are hurting a bit right now, and they were hurting a lot more last week.
I really think I'm catching a light cold - nothing serious, though, I cannot afford something serious with examinations snapping right around the corner. But I've felt abnormally sluggish for the last two weeks that it's a bit depressing. It's affecting my schoolwork (slightly, very very very slightly). I don't really want to head to Madame Pomfrey for something so trivial.
I'm feeling fine right now, though, I usually feel better after I start writing what I like to write. But all this week has been extraordinarily slow, on most counts. On Monday after classes, I was calculating some numbers when I suddenly went blank. It's happened on several accounts - few and rare, it's always been - but I wish it didn't happen when I was calculating. I lost everything then. I really wish I hadn't, because I had to start over and it was so very hard on my already throbbing head. Ah, exams, how you managed to sneak up on me, I do not know -- yet, I should have known by now, in my sixth year, how you have become oh-so-onerous on me. On Tuesday, I didn't have time to have supper so I just asked Mandy to grab me a biscuit and she did, and so I ate it. Nothing really interesting happens on Tuesdays, but it was an odd shaped biscuit so I had to comment on it as the highlight of my day. On Wednesday, I managed to eat breakfast but the pumpkin juice tasted rather ... different, I must say - I think I was the only one who noticed it, however, because everyone else gulped it down as if it were life itself. Maybe that's why it was so different - because I found it as so when everyone else found it to be quite the opposite. Nothing interesting happens on Wednesdays either, at least for me. On Thursday, my books and quills and parchments got knocked out of my hands by a rather rude boy. I had to borrow one of Mandy's ink (and jar) for that day, because all of the beautiful black ink spilled on the ground. I never really found out whom that rushing boy was, but he didn't even have the decency to say he was sorry! I don't expect people to help me pick up my books or to offer to pay for my spilled ink, but I would like to hear a small apology. However, I do hope he got to where he was heading off to, I know how it is to be late that even rudeness is somewhat excusable. Then, today, Friday, I've finally had the soul-deep pleasure of pushing away my studies and finally settling down to write. School can wait until tomorrow, but Friday nights will always be mine with my endless amounts of blue notebooks (I do have Ravenclaw pride). Mum sends the notebooks and Daddy usually includes a poem too, on the first page. I got one in the owl-post today too!
Today is, and always will be, the end of a week and a day of pondering. I love being normal as much as I love writing. ... if only I can find that notebook that they sent. I gave up finding it a moment ago, but I'm about to restart searching for my treasure I seemed to have misplaced. Hm. If anyone sees a blue notebook with LISA TURPIN (with 'Such is the Ravenclaw way...' on the cover - heeee!!!), please return it. Thank you.
I really think I'm catching a light cold - nothing serious, though, I cannot afford something serious with examinations snapping right around the corner. But I've felt abnormally sluggish for the last two weeks that it's a bit depressing. It's affecting my schoolwork (slightly, very very very slightly). I don't really want to head to Madame Pomfrey for something so trivial.
I'm feeling fine right now, though, I usually feel better after I start writing what I like to write. But all this week has been extraordinarily slow, on most counts. On Monday after classes, I was calculating some numbers when I suddenly went blank. It's happened on several accounts - few and rare, it's always been - but I wish it didn't happen when I was calculating. I lost everything then. I really wish I hadn't, because I had to start over and it was so very hard on my already throbbing head. Ah, exams, how you managed to sneak up on me, I do not know -- yet, I should have known by now, in my sixth year, how you have become oh-so-onerous on me. On Tuesday, I didn't have time to have supper so I just asked Mandy to grab me a biscuit and she did, and so I ate it. Nothing really interesting happens on Tuesdays, but it was an odd shaped biscuit so I had to comment on it as the highlight of my day. On Wednesday, I managed to eat breakfast but the pumpkin juice tasted rather ... different, I must say - I think I was the only one who noticed it, however, because everyone else gulped it down as if it were life itself. Maybe that's why it was so different - because I found it as so when everyone else found it to be quite the opposite. Nothing interesting happens on Wednesdays either, at least for me. On Thursday, my books and quills and parchments got knocked out of my hands by a rather rude boy. I had to borrow one of Mandy's ink (and jar) for that day, because all of the beautiful black ink spilled on the ground. I never really found out whom that rushing boy was, but he didn't even have the decency to say he was sorry! I don't expect people to help me pick up my books or to offer to pay for my spilled ink, but I would like to hear a small apology. However, I do hope he got to where he was heading off to, I know how it is to be late that even rudeness is somewhat excusable. Then, today, Friday, I've finally had the soul-deep pleasure of pushing away my studies and finally settling down to write. School can wait until tomorrow, but Friday nights will always be mine with my endless amounts of blue notebooks (I do have Ravenclaw pride). Mum sends the notebooks and Daddy usually includes a poem too, on the first page. I got one in the owl-post today too!
Today is, and always will be, the end of a week and a day of pondering. I love being normal as much as I love writing. ... if only I can find that notebook that they sent. I gave up finding it a moment ago, but I'm about to restart searching for my treasure I seemed to have misplaced. Hm. If anyone sees a blue notebook with LISA TURPIN (with 'Such is the Ravenclaw way...' on the cover - heeee!!!), please return it. Thank you.