Just you wait.
So I’m sitting in the KH lab and I decide to take a break from the overdue homework I’ve been completing, and by completing I mean doodling along the margins of the worksheets. Honestly, to anyone else this may seem like a typical classroom situation. And in theory, it is. There’s the group of girls, sitting around the teacher questioning her, probably hoping that they’ll catch some leaked exam questions along the way. Then there’s the group of girls to my left, jotting down whatever has been written on the white board, something I should be doing, if I weren’t thinking about what an awesome article this could be. Then there’s the group to my right, who are furiously sewing the ragged edges of their projects, something I managed to complete before any of the girls in this class. So where do I fit into this? I’m sloppy, lazy, and I honestly couldn’t care less about what kind of stitches you use to hem the end of a skirt. So how exactly have I managed to stay in this class over the past couple of years? It’s common knowledge that when it comes to females in this class, no one’s grades are quite as inconsistent, or I guess you could call it yo-yo-like, as mine are. You see I am a self proclaimed, natural born procrastinator… most of the time. Here I am typing out what I thought about in the KH lab, when I really should be studying for the exams in 2 days. Don’t underestimate me though. Give me something I have the least bit of interest in, and watch me shine. Debating? Done. Elocution? Done. Defying teacher’s low, low, expectations in me? Done. Just you wait and see. Once I’m done with all this KBSM PMR s***, I’m going to be the top student in my year. I swear. H***, I’d bet anything that the majority of my teachers, wait scratch that, the majority of the girls in the KH lab yesterday, think I’m going to end up as a shoe salesperson with no future. Think again. 10 years from now, I plan to walk down Wall Street in my heels and office suit, a lawyer, getting ready to sew a company out of billions and billions of dollars. Or maybe a journalist, preferably a sports journalist, in an airport, getting ready to board a flight to Europe to write a report on the match been Barcelona and Real Madrid. Hey, maybe with a little bit of luck I could even try to venture into the music industry, where I’d be able to take the stage every night and sing my heart out into a real mic, instead of the can of hairspray I use when I’m in my room. True, I aspire to be so many different people, and I know that someday, at least one of these dreams will be full filled. And everyone here will know how wrong they were about me. The girls in my class who never actually got the chance to know me before jumping to conclusions about what a trouble maker I was, just you wait. I guess it goes without saying then that I get along better with boys. Everything is just so much easier. You never have to worry about stepping on anyone’s toes, or walk a tightrope between honest and offensive. I think most girls would actually be surprised at how competent boys are with heart to heart talks. Of course none of the girls in my class would know that, seeing as how they roll their eyes every time they see me chit chatting instead of rushing to complete the equation that has been written on the board. Well just you wait girls. One day, I’ll be able to complete that equation, and so much more.