Can You Pick A Lock?

The Photon (my fourth year high school section. I was dumped into a section with the same classmates three years ago!) chat box was empty when I signed into Facebook. I am so deeply amazed, I have to mention this rare occurrence in today's post. (YEAH, I talk as if I update everyday.)

I'm not in my usual hyperactive disposition today. Just this morning, our class adviser asked us to clean the classroom (It's funny because I spent my first year in high school in the same room) because the school year has ended, we're off to college, and we're not spending the next 210 days of mental suicide in the same school anymore. I'm depressed. While I was cleaning-- er, sweeping a fourth of the floor area and folding one curtain-- I abstained from talking to anyone because I know they would get emotional. They did, eventually, even without any particular stimulus. So instead of joining the tear caravan I borrowed a friend's marker and wrote my name on the bulletin board. We don't plan on taking it out any time soon.

We have THE BEST bulletin board in the Acad. Whoo whoo. Take that from the
special person who scored 34 in a Creativity Test.

Find my awesome name!

Our class adviser locked the room and now we're nomads roaming around the campus getting our clearances signed.