I cringe at my younger self. Like, honestly cringe in shame and embarrassment when I remember how I used to act.
In year 7 I hysterically cried in class because I lost my locker key and couldn’t get my new coat out.
In year 8, a boy I fancied said, “I’ll see you later.” To which I shouted, “NO YOU WON’T.” Urm…
In year 9, I shouted out in my RE class, “WHAT’S A VIBRATOR” after overhearing someone behind me’s conversation.
In sixth form, to my teacher who I was a little bit in love with, as he was taking his blazer off saying, “oh, I’m hot,” I decided to yell out, “YOU BET YOU ARE.” The girls in the back of the classroom heard. And I was as close to the front as you could possibly get.
Perhaps most embarrassingly, I fell up the stairs on my way into class, hit my knee so hard I passed out and hit my head on a door, came round to a girl shouting, “I FORT SHE WOZ JOKIN” then threw up in a bin.
How is this even possible!?
To make things worse, I didn’t even break my kneecap like I thought I had, I merely ended up with a bruised knee, red face and limp for a few days. With people coming over to me asking “oooh are you OK, I heard you passed out!” Great.
Then my teacher drew a lovely picture of it on the whiteboard for everyone to see, that looked something like this…