As I type, my fingers are aching, as is my back, my legs and every other part of my aching body. Today, I woke up tired and despite lazing around the entire day, I will probably go to bed exhausted to wake up tired the following morning and all because of my wild Friday night. Instead of running free at the sound of the bell, dragging my book bag behind me I decided to stay at school…for the night.
It’s not as bad as it sounds, in fact it was a charity sleepover for a great cause (Save the Children) and everybody had a great time, even though they complained about everything from the food to the entertainment. It is so much easier to complain than to be grateful and say thank you and it’s not until it is your turn to organise such an event that you realise how discouraging it can be. Whilst my friends and I were running around (in heels), trying our best to make the evening memorable for everybody, there were a few girls (brats) that would moan that they were bored or would look in disgust at the food we served them, making us fume and just feel like giving up, not even bother. We were putting in a great amount of effort, but it seemed that whatever we did they never appeared to be content. We gave up once we noticed that those complaining were the ones that wouldn’t take part in any of the activities and would wipe their plates clean; they had resolved not to have fun and were determined to remain bored.
As well as a few complainers there were also many slackers and the division of labour was abysmal. The sleepover was an event, organised by my class and more specifically my class council, of which I am a part of, but during the event all that was conveniently forgotten as a few people worked themselves to my current state of exhaustion and others partied hard. The headteacher commented that she always saw the same few faces walking up and down the corridors, carrying, distributing, cleaning and organising and as one of those people I can do nothing but agree. I know I work hard, but the kind of person I am wouldn’t allow me to watch as things go downhill especially if I can do something about it and I know that if I don’t do something about it nobody will or it will be a long time before they do.
That’s why, whilst some girls were getting dolled up for more than an hour, I made my getting dressed a five-minute job and headed off to prepare salad and why when they were pouting in front of their cameras for another half hour, I was setting up the dinning area. I don’t even know how to pout! Then, whilst we were running out of activities, trying to entertain a bunch of hungry teens that couldn’t understand the concept of a midnight feast (“you can’t have it before midnight!!”), they were locked in the English room, sat in a circle taking shots of red bull. You would think that they would put all that concentrated energy to good use but they still manged to lay dead in their duvets the next morning whilst my friend and I made hot jam and chocolate spread sandwiches for the whole school! I burnt myself, they woke up and actually had the nerve to look at the clock, say they weren’t that late and asked to be served breakfast, even calling for another croissant from where they were sitting. I may be ranting on my blog but at school I kept my mouth shut and failed to smile.
Although slightly overshadowed by the negative, I did have a fun time and more importantly we did make money for charity. I jumped up and down on the stage, yelling lyrics at the top of my lungs until we were told to turn the music down and the decorations were admired by everyone; brown and green paper chains, butterflies, vines, fairy lights, snakes and monkeys gave the school a wild feel which along with the loud racket everyone was making in their animal prints transformed the place into a real jungle. The best part was falling asleep in my pink duvet to the sound of giggling and the worst, was waking up and dettaching myself from said pink duvet to the sound of younger years voicing their hunger.