Exhaustion, Exhaustion, Exhaustion

Even typing out the very title of this entry drains me of energy - which, during the school week, is heralded as precious as a jewel - like my brother gulps down bottles of Lucosade, which goes to show how tired I am. Needless to say, dreaming of sleep when I should really pay attention to my teacher is draining in itself and, with four more days to go until I can claim the weekend as my own once again, the prospect of awakening at the crack of dawn sends more shivers down my spine than the sight of a hideous spider ever would.

Over a month since I made my all-big return to school, it is unsurprising in the least that I am somewhat running out of energy, which proves that two lie-ins at the weekend is not enough to resurrect my sparkle in time for the start of a new week. Indeed, I half-dragged, half-jumped out of bed when I woke up at five thirty this morning - considering that I've been treating myself to getting up at 9am for the past two mornings, it was hardly any wonder that I struggled to get going today. And this dreaded routine, which runs over the course of five days, will push me to my limits yet again until the weekend relieves me - albeit to a certain extent - of this exhaustion until the cycle resumes come Monday morning.

Without needing to go further, I don't like this part of school and will probably never develop a taste for it; if the choice was available, would anybody get up early without a gun being pointed at their head? Yet even when I was educated at home, I would still wake up earlier than the rest of my family and would have gotten ready by nine o'clock, although my just-washed hair would have remained wet and able to brush whenever I wished.

Ugh, the thought of sticking it out until Friday is as sickening as those competitive eaters who stuff themselves with food as a so-called 'profession': just like the time when my favourite programme, The Secret Circle, was (wrongfully) cancelled, how will I ever survive? Not only did I have to contend with a headache whilst in my Geography class - the final lesson of the week - last Friday, a hot burst of summer heat was driving me around the bend, exhausting me still. Perhaps my sleepy woes are partly related to the rise in temperature and the general laziness of the summer term, but it doesn't count as a worthy (or even half so) excuse: it's a routine which I will have to get used to, like the rest of the other pupils have.

As I write this now - whilst ironically lying on my bed, of all the most comforting places - my eyes are drooping and aching, angered at my determination to work through this agony. If only school started later in the day which, if ever such an idea was proposed, would benefit the sleep of thousands of teenagers in my native country. Scientists are constantly banging on about the importance of gaining sleep - a gift so coveted that no price can be placed upon obtaining it - and our parents give us lectures about going to bed early, especially if they are eager to watch Sky before going to bed themselves. But if teenagers like myself are doing all the right things - such as avoiding late nights, making time for sleep and so on - yet struggle to rest, who is to blame?

Schools are often supposed to prepare young people for 'the real world', or the environment in which they could potentially work in the distant future. Under these beliefs, pupils are expected to arrive at school at a similar time to adult workers, their brains motivated to learn. Whilst I'm always on the prowl for new things to absorb like a sponge, my mind is somewhat clouded shortly after awakening in the morning, unable to see through the blurry mist and general puzzlement. So, how am I supposed to achieve my best and express enthusiasm for learning if my head is not putting 100% into whatever I'm doing?

For years, it has been a battle which has been faced by pupils all around the world and, despite my pleas for more rest and less exhaustion, I doubt that getting up early is a routine likely to be changed any time soon. Some people might argue that I am causing issues by waking up earlier than many pupils willingly would, but it's just the way I am; I have plenty to do before heading out to school in the morning, which ought to be done at my own pace without a stopwatch timing my every move.

Oh well, I guess that it could be worse; the first hurdle of the week has been leapt over safely, albeit my body is suffering from it. All of this excitement - baking chocolate cakes in Food Tech, racing 100m in P.E., the list goes on - is swirling around in my head, and it needs to stop before I lose control of myself. The only control I currently seem to have is the amount of ice cream scoops I add to a bowl, and even so it isn't exactly great for my waistline...