eruvadhril

So, at school, they have all the year 11s do work experience after exams. But because I ~~can’t be arsed~~ won't be able to do exams, I get to do it two or three weeks before everyone else. Which means they might be able to fit me into the Haemotology lab! THIS IS GONNA BE SO COOL.

School ends. Mum had said earlier that day that we could walk home today. Come the end of school, it's snowing, so I ring Mum. She says we can still walk and to walk fast and we won't get cold and by the time she gets the car to school we could have gotten home anyway and if we walk home she'll give us some money to get Bridget Jones. I don't know of any shops within walking distance that actually sell DVDs, but anyway.
Off we merrily trot, thinking it's a fair bet to go down the road that we drive down when Mum picks us up from school. However, we turned left when we should've turned right, I think, and we ended up out of Gerrard's Cross altogether. I decide to ring Mum and tell her that we're lost, not murdered. She blasts down the phone "How could you bloody get lost? How bloody difficult is it? Etc. etc. many insults about inteligence, etc. I take this to mean we're still walking.
We retrace our steps and get back to the school, and follow the route that we take when we drive to school. We eventually get home after much coldness and wind and snow and bickering. We ring the doorbell and Mum gets up from the computer with her Haughty Snoot face on. She opens the door. We file in. Mum says "Don't be thick". She says this like Moses proclaiming one of the Ten Commandments: "Thou shalt not look like twits and inconvenience the Lord thy Mother." It's not "Let's laugh about it because it was a silly mistake", but "You three are the stupidest people I have ever met and no one in the history of mankind has ever made such a greivous mistake." I say "Alright, we've learned." and walk up the stairs before she can launch into one of her tirades. A few hours later it's as if it never happened. I don't think she realises how much her constant bitching and nagging and insulting affects us. And we're scared to talk to her about it in case it sets her off again. It's like smoking inside a bloody zeppelin, living in this house.

P.S. we still don't have bridget jones. Even though it was sitting right there in a display case that said "BRIDGET JONES: THE EDGE OF REASON" with a big picture of Colin Firth and Renee Zelwegger and Hugh Grant and everything pointing to it, saying 'buy the sodding movie, you sodding stubborn woman' when we went to a shop when we were buying stuff to make my sword. And then she was questioning everything that I needed to buy and saying how stupid was that way of making a sword and how much better it would be to make it her way (out of wood and covered in copper foil or something, although I specified it couldn't be made out of wood because the school has no woodworking tools for the fifth time you stupid great prat.)

She's Lady Catherine de Bourgh and I'm Elizabeth Bennet.