Westborough High School - Cotton Gin Yearbook (Westborough, MA)

Page 31 text:

Mr. Sharpe on a typical Monday morning J. Bond not quite awake yet Freshmen sleepwalking through the halls People In the A.M. Not everyone is at their best in the morning, especially if they ' re at school. Everyone has their own routine that they fol- low each morning. The locker room is first stop for many girls who didn ' t have time to put on their face . Some even get dressed there! A lot of students who have procrastinating ten- dencies can be found in their homerooms at 7:45, frantically cramming for an 8:00 test. For the most part the majority of the students are found lining the balconies. The morning is prime time for socializing. From 7:30-8:00, the balconies display human merchandise. What could be more convenient than a casual stroll past that guy you ' ve had your eye on, or to hide in a large group of friends and stay inconspicuous. A few students actually use the extra time to do a bit of make up work, and yearbook members can be found scrambling to and fro, collecting last minute sales. Yet as the 7:55 bell rings, the morning is just about officially over, and the day has only be- gun. M. McLaughlin trying to look awake R. Sprague checking out the freshmen girls

Page 33 text:

IF I ONLY HAD A CLUE 99 Today, I ' m going to pay attention and understand everything in Trig. I re- peated this as I walked to the dreaded room 324 de- o keep this promise I had made to my- self. I walked into the room and said my hellos to every- one around my desk, even though I had just seen them all three minutes earlier in English. I reached down for my notebook and pen. Glancing around I realized everyone was talking and laughing. Leaning over to a friend, I asked, how can ev- eryone be so calm when in just a few minutes we will be overpowered by cosines and tangents, or is my mind the only one that goes com- pletely Hank when in this room? II waited for a re- sponse, [none came. I then noticea she was busily colorin pin a map due next period and didn ' t even hear my question. I leaned back slowly. I ■k. The bell had rung and the class quieted except for the sound of my friend ' s green crayola giving life to the Philippine Islands. My teacher walked over to the board and began. I figured my promise would be broken in the first fifteen minutes of class. It seemed everything he wrote was in a secret code written specifi- cally to exclude me. It just dared me to look out the window, glance at the clock or talk to a friend. I tried to listen, as I stared at the board, making a futile at- tempt to decode what he ■Id written. I thought I was ■ally concentrating, wait- Big for a breakthrough. ■ hen I saw it, something had happened. I was horri- fied. Somehow, while I was ' concentrating the rest of the entire board had been filled. I looked down, my no- tebook was empty. I checked my friends ' notebooks, they were covered with notes, graphs and tables. Where had I been? I was positive I had been paying attention. Then before I knew it he started erasing the first part of the board. I tried to get the notes down, but it was too late. They were gone. I really had attempted to follow along but I was lost, again, as usual. I sighed, the bell rang. I threw my notebook (empty again, except for those first few lines of undecoded se- cret knowledge) back into my bag. Walking out the door, I thought, Tomorrow, I ' m really going to pay at- tention and understand ev- erything. 29