Honestly, its loud enough to wake the dead Essay Example For Students

Honestly, its loud enough to wake the dead Essay Every morning I am woken by the joint effect of my phone and watch alarm. Honestly, its loud enough to wake the dead. After pressing snooze a couple of times I begin to stir. With a thud the door opens and a dark figure lurches in the doorway. Its mum announcing the arrival of yet another morning. She is meant to wake me up if Ive accidentally turned over and gone back to sleep thinking I cant be bothered with school. I am one of a family of five with two adults getting ready for work and getting the five year old baby ready for school and the two teenagers, my brother and I getting ready for school. We will write a custom essay on Honestly, its loud enough to wake the dead specifically for you for only $16.38 $13.9/page Order now As you can see, mornings are chaos, with everybody trying not to be late. The fact that there is only one bathroom makes everything worst. I eventually haul myself out of bed at about 7. 30am. By this time everybody else in the family has used the bathroom so I have it all to myself. Unfortunately I still have to hurry or Ill be late for school. After half an hour I emerge from the toilet properly alert and ready for a gruelling day in school. I go downstairs for a quick breakfast. Since I have recently decided follow a healthier regime, my breakfast consists of bran flakes with weetabix. While eating breakfast I watch cartoons with my little brother. I then force myself to get dressed into the dull clothes commonly known as school uniform and pack my school bag which I should have packed the night before. At 8. 15, I race around the house trying to find my blazer. I grab my dinner money and run out of the house. My house is not far from the school so unlike countless students who go to school by bus, I walk. My school journey can be completed in 10 minutes if a walk at a steady pace but as I do not have the energy in the mornings it takes me around 20 minutes. I stop off at my best friend, Saras, house if she is at her dads house as it is on my way to school. I have known Sara since I was in year one. Our mums knew each other when they were younger so when they met at our school after years, they made numerous plans to go out and see each other. This meant Sara and I spent a lot of time in each others houses so we became close. In year 6 she was the only one of my school friends that came to the same secondary school as me so our friendship grew. Even though I am always in a rush in the mornings I always manage to get to school with a few minutes to spare. I meet up with my friends and talk. Its usually about the huge amounts of homework we receive and the fact teachers give us so much, not taking into consideration we dont just get homework from their lessons. The bell rings signalling the beginning of another difficult school day. Every day we head over to registration where our form teacher does the register and gives out notices. For the rest of registration we either talk amongst ourselves or go to the school hall for assembly where my mind wanders off and I enter into my own little world. The teacher waffles on about insignificant tittle tattle, therefore little attention is paid. Eventually everyone exits and goes upstairs to their form rooms, snatching their bags and coats, rushing to the first lesson. After two lessons each lasting sixty-five minutes, its finally time for break and Im usually starving. I head over to the canteen and buy a biscuit or a packet of Sensations crisps (Thai sweet chilli flavour as I like it the best). Then I head over to the table where all my friends are sitting and we chat. I could spend all day with my friends at school and still find so much to talk about with them for hours on the phone during evenings and weekends, especially over the most insignificant subjects. .ud9d8b5da8448a1a285d253e9b723b15f , .ud9d8b5da8448a1a285d253e9b723b15f .postImageUrl , .ud9d8b5da8448a1a285d253e9b723b15f .centered-text-area { min-height: 80px; position: relative; } .ud9d8b5da8448a1a285d253e9b723b15f , .ud9d8b5da8448a1a285d253e9b723b15f:hover , .ud9d8b5da8448a1a285d253e9b723b15f:visited , .ud9d8b5da8448a1a285d253e9b723b15f:active { border:0!important; } .ud9d8b5da8448a1a285d253e9b723b15f .clearfix:after { content: ""; display: table; clear: both; } .ud9d8b5da8448a1a285d253e9b723b15f { display: block; transition: background-color 250ms; webkit-transition: background-color 250ms; width: 100%; opacity: 1; transition: opacity 250ms; webkit-transition: opacity 250ms; background-color: #95A5A6; } .ud9d8b5da8448a1a285d253e9b723b15f:active , .ud9d8b5da8448a1a285d253e9b723b15f:hover { opacity: 1; transition: opacity 250ms; webkit-transition: opacity 250ms; background-color: #2C3E50; } .ud9d8b5da8448a1a285d253e9b723b15f .centered-text-area { width: 100%; position: relative ; } .ud9d8b5da8448a1a285d253e9b723b15f .ctaText { border-bottom: 0 solid #fff; color: #2980B9; font-size: 16px; font-weight: bold; margin: 0; padding: 0; text-decoration: underline; } .ud9d8b5da8448a1a285d253e9b723b15f .postTitle { color: #FFFFFF; font-size: 16px; font-weight: 600; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 100%; } .ud9d8b5da8448a1a285d253e9b723b15f .ctaButton { background-color: #7F8C8D!important; color: #2980B9; border: none; border-radius: 3px; box-shadow: none; font-size: 14px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 26px; moz-border-radius: 3px; text-align: center; text-decoration: none; text-shadow: none; width: 80px; min-height: 80px; background: url(https://artscolumbia.org/wp-content/plugins/intelly-related-posts/assets/images/simple-arrow.png)no-repeat; position: absolute; right: 0; top: 0; } .ud9d8b5da8448a1a285d253e9b723b15f:hover .ctaButton { background-color: #34495E!important; } .ud9d8b5da8448a1a285d253e9b723b15f .centered-text { display: table; height: 80px; padding-left : 18px; top: 0; } .ud9d8b5da8448a1a285d253e9b723b15f .ud9d8b5da8448a1a285d253e9b723b15f-content { display: table-cell; margin: 0; padding: 0; padding-right: 108px; position: relative; vertical-align: middle; width: 100%; } .ud9d8b5da8448a1a285d253e9b723b15f:after { content: ""; display: block; clear: both; } READ: Celebrate We Will EssayMy talkative quality is probably what irritates both of my parents the most. The bell rings indicating the beginning of third period. The corridors pile up. There are students hurrying to their lesson, students leaning on the walls, students eating snacks and students trying to chat whilst walking to their lesson. Then the teachers stride up and down the corridor telling the students to go to their lesson. I manage to get into my classroom by pushing past all my fellow students, and the teacher is just about to take the register whilst I hurry to take my seat. After another boring hour it is finally lunch and I walk outside into the fresh air and where I always meet my friends. Stepping into the canteen brings all kinds of smells wafting up our noses. The most recognizable smell is the chips which I immediately want to buy but when I remember that I should be filling my body with nutritional food, I eat a salad pot. Finally after 2 more periods, it is three forty and schools out except for Fridays where we finish school straight after the fourth lesson. It is a relief. I know you shouldnt wish your life away but when I get to school I just cant wait to get home. Despite all of this complaining I know I have to work hard to fulfil my ambition to have a good job, I have wanted to become a success ever since I can remember. I strongly believe that everyone has the ability to be the best and therefore I aim to get myself an exceedingly high-up, well-respected job. It just so happens that I havent determined any of the other details yet. The problem is, unlike many, I dont have a preference between the arts and sciences. This is why at the moment Im still choosing the career path I would like to take. After school, I walk home with my friends and get home around 4. I go to get changed taking my school bag with me, it weighs a ton! I dont know how the teachers expect us to carry all this stuff to their lesson each time. I watch my favourite programme One on One when Ive changed. After it finishes I wash the dishes while my brother tidies up the living room before my parents come home from work bringing my baby brother with them. We eat dinner as a family. After dinner, I usually do any homework which is expected to be handed in the next day. After some hard work I stop and watch EastEnders if it is on, if not I carry on with my homework a bit longer. After watching the programme, I carry on with my homework or watch some more telly. I go to bed around ten thirty, sometimes reading a little, thinking or falling straight to sleep after a tiring, stressful day at school. Before going to sleep which on a bad night may take hours, I switch on my alarms. I fall asleep and sleep deeply till the alarms ring with their distressing ring the next morning.