Walking on Sunshine

The first thing that came into my mind when I stepped foot on the floors of the St. Martin's Court was "damn, why is it so hot and crowded in this place?". Plastic chairs were scattered at all corners of the place and people were everywhere. Teachers were in deep conversation with parents who either looked happy, proud and flattered or miffed, appalled and dismayed.

But as I spotted the table which bore the cards of the high school learners, I felt myslef being pulled by something invisible, urging me to come forward. I ignored my Mom and Dad who were just centimeters behind me and made my way to the table.

They asked me what section I belonged to and I tried to keep the irritation off my voice when I told them what section I was from. The woman smiled, searched for my card in the stack of long white cardboards and finally took mine out. I barely heard her say my first name because all I saw was the card and all I heard was the enticing sound the lifeless paper emitted (of course, I only imagined that part). I was about to reach out and take the card away from her when she said my Mom had to sign on the attendance whatever. I turned to look at my Mom and gave her a sign-the-frickin'-paper-woman. But there was another obstacle because one teacher (I'm not going to mention names here) was standing in front of the attendance sheet with one of her hands resting against her hip, talking excessively with another teacher who was behind the table. Seriously, if only I didn't care about morals and ethics, I would have pushed her aside and signed the paper on my own. But I was raised right by my parents and I politely uttered a short "Excuse me". Thankfully, she obliged and stepped aside.

Gah! Then, I nudged my Mom to sign and when she finally did, I grabbed (of course, lightly) my Report Card from the woman who chuckled at my eagerness and the hungry, almost-delusional look I was sure my face was displaying. I damned near ripped off the plastic cover in my impatience to find out about my grades and, holy moly, wasn't my wait worthy.

I was happy with my grades. It wasn't my best but it was sure as hell good and the sense of success that came over me as my eyes trailed down from one box to another was... overwhelming. I'm not saying that because I'm happy with my scores, I'll just keep it that way. No, I'm going to do my best in every subject that I'm taking and hopefully, just hopefully, I'll finally get the grades I've been craving for.

Now I can vouch for the famous phrase "I'm walking on sunshine" because that's how I'm feeling right now. Like I'm walking on sunshine.