Spring Against My Skin

Today I felt the first glimpses of spring against my skin.

I was exiting maths to head toward recess and it happened. I slid my books in and slung my bag over my shoulder. Exams were on so I waited silently for my friends to get their stuff together. I adjusted my collar, a smile already playing on my lips after passing an assessment I was sure I’d failed. As I waited I could hear every leaf on the trees rustle that quiet way they do when they shimmy against each other. Small streams of air cascaded down from the trees, greeting my skin in the most pleasant way.

Just yesterday, the feel of the wind against my skin would make me cringe. The ice-cold air would send chills running through my body. But not today. Today the sun shone, only mildly and the wind blew only lightly but together they created something amazing.

I know I tend to blame my emotions on the weather a lot but there’s nothing like a truly beautiful day to send a shot of endorphins running through your bloodstream. There’s nothing like the breeze on your skin to remind you you’re alive. There’s nothing like the sun on your skin to remind you there’s hope.

Because there is.

Crayons

School.

The first word I’ve got to get into my head.

The last word I want to be thinking right now.

Seriously what teacher gives their students a test the first day back!?

Yes I remebered it! No I did not just freak out because I had better study.  

;)

You know me too well.

Aww no and it’s winter term so I have to start wearing this horrid new blazer.

It better not be cold tomorrow.

Haha yeah also remembered just ten minutes ago that school goes until five o’clock for me on Mondays.

Tomorrow is Monday.

Must remember to remind Mum before we leave for school, so as not for her to forget to pick me up again. :P

We better have one heck of a coffee break for afternoon tea in Society & Culture. Once we’ve finished our test, of course.

Hmmm the joys of school.

Maybe I should buy some crayons…

They might cheer me up. At least a bit more than my black felt tip, ‘poetry pen’ that leaves ghastly ink stains everywhere. How depressing.