Diary of a Wimpy Adult Talking About Childhood Schooldays

Since school season is back in season, why not share some nostalgic school-y things I experienced that, perchance, you did too or currently are? Do I personally have a valid say about this? 
*Shrugs*
It’s been half a decade since last I went to school, but I still remember a lot. I also have not really changed as a person since I was born so it’s not like how I was then is wildly different compared to now. 
I get reminded of my school days every year when my drug store stocks the back-to-school whatever and I get to look at it and reminisce and relive my simultaneously glorious and torturous past. 
When I was in elementary school, where the desks had inner compartments for binders and whatnot, a few of us would make wee houses with erasers and putty and other stupid stuff for small figurines or tiny animals. Because we’d have fun shaped erasers, some would be a table and others would become a couch based on appearance. Putty would be rolled into a ball for a beanbag chair or a log for a pillow. We would secretly invest hours into perfecting our miniature houses and get incredibly pissed whenever our desk was bumped or had to be scooted into a different formation as our furniture would collapse and shift. 
When I was in highschool, I thought it would be a grand idea to have one big-boy binder and put every subject for that semester in it. I had dividers that kept the classes organized and separated my assignments and tests in the folder slots inside. It was genius because I only ever had to worry about one binder and it was just my textbooks that I switched between classes. I also started getting lazy with taking my paper out of the binder to write on it, so I flipped the pages and wrote on the back instead. I’m left handed, the binder rings get in my way. Problem was, I never saw the beginning of my notes when I opened the binder so I always had to sift through it backward. My English teacher started recognizing my work just because the hole punches were on the other side, so that was pretty amusing to me. 
School shopping was always a colorful, bright, exciting time. It was the day to revamp your entire personality for the new year. Even though I’d always get the same style of things because I liked it, I could pretend that I was gonna stroll into school as a new person. Mind you, half of what I wanted, I was denied. Would I use a sixty-four pack of colored pens to underline everything in a very aesthetically pleasing way like one of my best friends? No. I would just write in different fonts. But I still wanted them. I did get some black pencils instead of the classic yellow ones and they were much sleeker looking. They were also more identifiable as mine, you couldn’t get away nearly as easily stealing my writing device. I once got a new backpack that was pricey but I loved it and used it my whole high school career and afterward (Targus is a quality brand lads, that I will say). I kept the same shoddy lunch kit though for some reason. Water bottle too, that thing is so dented but I still use it every day for work and I’ve had it since the sixth grade (Thermos is also a quality brand). I also used to drop about three hundred dollars on clothes, it was money I saved up from holidays, birthdays, jobs, and allowance. Twice a year we would go to Vancouver and I would stop at all the cheap clothing places and get a stupid amount of shirts and pants and even shoes sometimes because it all ranged from five dollars to thirty. Did I go to school in brand name clothing? Not unless it was hand-me-down. But I had way more outfits, much of which remain in my closet today since I never had a growth spurt. 
I always thought that by the time I got to twelfth grade, I would be one of those impressive looking students that towered over the newbie eight graders. Turns out I remained the same height as them, my shoe size never increased from a child’s four/women’s six. I grew in age, but never above five foot two. Alas, I never felt above the younger kids for I was below many of them and I was scared the whole time walking down their hallway.
Why is it that the first week of school is always ridiculously exciting? We do this every year, we get all stoked that we’ll be rolling up to the class decked out in our fresh new clothes and armed with our shiny new school supplies and we feel on top of the world. But then week two comes around and we hate our lives. Every. Year. We should learn, but no, the thrill of going back and flexing on all our fellow schoolmates remains despite knowing that we’ll be sick of this school shit in less than five days. 
Homework is stupid. It always has been and always will be. Finish your lesson in the allotted time, teachers. I have other things to worry about outside of school. I don’t got time for more learning. Also my fricken parents can’t help me with my math, as much as everyone likes to say that math doesn’t change, it clearly does, because they have no idea how to do what I’m supposed to. If The Incredibles 2 had a joke about it, that means it’s common enough. I had a math teacher that would not consider your homework done unless you completed every single one of the questions. This wouldn’t just be one through seven, it would have subparts like a) through f). Now I failed math my whole life but that’s, and I’m gonna show my work, six times seven, which is… lemme get my calculator out because I still don’t know my freaking six and seven times tables, FORTY TWO QUESTIONS! Mate, I have ballet after school, and jazz, and modern, and acro. How the bloody fuck am I also supposed to do forty-two questions for a subject I’m shit at and my parents are uselss for help? She said that there was always time to do our homework and extracurriculars and eat properly and rest and sleep. I call bullshit and I always will. I did not have time for that. 
Did you know, most people’s brains wake up at around ten in the morning? That’s why by the end of second period, you actually start retaining things. School has no right to start at eight or nine in the morning. I’ve no idea how it would work otherwise since there are only so many hours in the day but I disagree with the decision nonetheless. Also, no, I’m not citing where I got that fact because some kid told me that back in, like, eleventh grade and I could be wrong. I could look it up on Wikipedia but teachers don’t like that website. 
I remember getting lockers for the first time and putting up so much hanging bullshit that everytime I opened the door, it would fall. Things like mirrors and little metal organizers, and magnets. It was too much and it was a pain in the ass, but I learned and reorganized over the years. It was always so stressful getting a locker since you’d have to come in at a certain time and you’d try to get next to your friends and also pick out a lock that turned smoothly and had a good combo. It sounds simple in writing but it was a bloodbath every year. You’d also be moving in a ton of locker furniture like the hanging things and the wee table that would go inside for you to add a shelf structure. It was chaotic. My two friends always went at the same time as we were divided into slots based on last name initials and they had B and C. I had H, so I never got there at the same time, we had to be sneaky and they would stay longer or text me the location of our backpack houses so I could claim my territory beside them.
In elementary school, which was kindergarten to seventh grade, us older kids constantly had quarrels with the staff over reign of the playground. The wee ones had their playground portion and we had a more complex version but every time we came up with a game to play, the supervisors would say it was too dangerous since the embryos could see us and copy us and get hurt. Grounders was a no. Climbing on the monkey bars was a no. Going up the slide was a no. Being alive in the presence of seven year olds was a no. We weren’t allowed on their stupid little play ground, that was for them. We weren’t allowed on the field because it was always flooded. We couldn’t go inside to the library and read or the classroom and chill because outside air is important. The basketball court was constantly overrun with confused students that didn’t know what else to do, the four square court as well. Swings had a thirty swing limit which was no fun. Tetherball was okay. But seriously, what was with teachers not letting students inside during recess? It gets cold in the winter! Whether it be Ohio where I grew up or the rainforest part of Canada where I did the rest of my growing up, it got bloody cold in both places. I had this zip up jacket that had two inside pockets as well as outside ones and I would just hamster-style hoard a bunch of snacks in them for the road aka the twenty minutes I was exiled to the outside. I once led a rebellion of about six to eight warriors where we stormed the gates of the school and charged inside due to being fed up with our exile and the chilly weather. Now I like being outside, but not when I’m forced. Hell I even hid in the bathroom with my friends rather than go out into the frozen asphalt wasteland. Supervisors checked those bathrooms so it was very stressful contorting our bodies to hide in a stall whilst making it look empty. 
Ah, school was weird. The rules made no sense and everything seemed so much more dramatic than it was. I was a solid C- to B+ student with a few A’s sprinkled here and there. I barely graduated. Despite years of being amongst others, my social skills are still awkward as shit. But in the end, at least I could show up and barely be a functioning person and wouldn’t get kicked out. Can’t say the same about having a job, if I took a day to sloth instead of work, I’d absolutely be fired. So, school had its quirks.