Please, no more distractions. If it's not the internet and MSN, then it's the phone. And if it's not that, well - take your pick. Books, music, iPod, food, numerous cups of tea, siblings and the "hippy teapot" which deserves to be carefully scrutinised due to interesting floral pattern and strategically placed snail on the lid. My cactus needs watering, and biscuits and stale Easter eggs invite me to eat them and make interesting sculptures from their shiny colourful foils. So far I have constructed a completely life-like dog out of orange chocolate wrappers, and half a weasel. The depressing state of weather, dust bunnies in the corner of the room and barking dogs in gardens two streets away attract my wandering mind, and appeal to my need for something more stimulating than books about the kidneys. I HAVE TO REVISE. Usually distractions are very welcome, but PLEASE* not now.

The teapot screams: "You don't need to know what surds are, or how to solve complicated equations! Come and scrutinise me! Look at the blue snail with the yellow head. Isn't it SO much more fascinating than Maths?" How can I ignore such a plea?

The world and my teapot are quite possibly against me.

Someone lock me up (and throw away the key) in a white, clean cell, with only my pile of revision to keep me company. I would be forced to learn out of sheer boredom, after having attempted and failed to dig my way out using only my finger and toenails. No windows, computer, or Bunny Suicides poster.

A clever Norwegian said to me today: "There's something wrong with your school system!" She would be so right. In no other country are pupils made to take over twenty exams in the same amount of days.

If I appear on MSN in the early hours of the morning, and I am on your contact list, interrogate me as to why I am not learning about Wide Area Networks for ICT, or about Hitler’s foreign policy.

* I think the over-capitalisation emphasises my need for silence, and clean white walls.