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Why it’s so hard for me to do my homework

1.012 Words / ~3½ pages sternsternsternstern_0.2stern_0.3 Author Monique K. in Apr. 2016
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English Language

University, School

HLW St. Peter

Grade, Teacher, Year

Sehr gut, Prof. Doheny, 2015

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Monique K. ©
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Why it’s so hard for me to do my homework

Why it’s so hard for me to do my homework, you ask? Well, you know that’s an interesting story, but it’s kind of long though. So I hope you brought some time and I’ll try to keep it short and simple, although I know it won’t be so. It all started in the 1st class of primary school…

I was 6 and could count and calculate to 100, write and read as well of course. At first I wanted to skip a class, but then I saw the pupils of the 2nd class and I hated them all in the very first moment. So I stayed in the 1st class and did like nothing at all for a whole year.

I didn’t learn for a test and got an A and was the best anyway. The teachers didn’t like it, because I wasn’t a great role model, but what could they do?

It all changed when I got to the 2nd class. At the beginning of the year we got a new student, who was as smart as I was. We “battled” us often about who of us is smarter and pushed ourselves. I really made an effort with doing my homeworks to get a better report than he.

In the end we both had just As. Unfortunately he left our school after that year, because he was mobbed by the others. So I fell back into my old way of handling school.

The rest of primary school was child’s play. Sometimes a teacher was about to give me a B, because of my missing homeworks, but then I wrote some tests without a mistake and got the A, or like my old teacher used to say: ”I’m turning a blind eye to you, even my corns (german: Hühnerauge (chicken’s eye)).”

After primary school I had to choose between the secondary school in Velden and some grammar schools in Villach and Klagenfurt. I even had meetings with the panels of these schools, because they wanted to talk me into going to their schools. In this part of my life I felt like a genius, because I had gotten to this point without an effort.

In the end I went to the school in Velden, because I didn’t have to take the bus and could sleep longer. Looking back I have to admit that it was the worst decision I could possibly make. I was blinded by all the language holidays, which we would go on.

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OK, well, let’s be fair, maybe not the worst, I met some of my today’s friends there, but I met some stupid ***** as well, sorry for that expression. I had some great teachers, notably my form teacher, some more nasty teachers, especially my maths teacher. And, yeah we went on the promised trips, and yes they were great.

I was able to stay in a five-star-hotel in Portorož, had some great time in Gardaland, visited Venice, saw the Bavaria Film Studio, met a nice host family in Penzance, Cornwall and went to see “We Will Rock You” and the Sherlock-Holmes-Museum in London. But all that was just show.

If you took a more specific look you could see that we all detested us, everybody would wish the others only the worst and even though some cried at the last day of school, we were all glad to hopefully don’t see anybody of that douchebags again. But I’m digressing from the topic.

So what happened first was I met this girl, who was similar to the guy from 2nd class primary school, but not in a nice way. She was a pro tennis player, about to write a book, attractive, really intelligent, a crawler in a very subtle way and an extremely good painter.

In the first semester I tried to get some great marks to be better than that *****, sorry again, but most of the teachers hated me, because of my father, who was once teacher there and not very popular.

One evening I sat at my working table and asked myself: ”Why am I doing this s**t?”. So it started all over again. I did not fancy doing any of my homework. It was like you’re an advanced mathematics student and somebody asks you about simple multiplications. Yes, that’s a bad example, because I’m really not into advanced mathematics, but you get the point.

So I got Bs and Cs and I really didn’t care at all, I just wanted to be out of that school. In the last year I tried hard to get a good school-leaving-certificate and reached my goal. I got two Bs and lots of As.

The only problem is after all that year my brain’s somehow saved everything, which has to do with homework, in “not important”. I know many say: “I’m sorry, I’ve forgotten the homework” although they haven’t forgotten it but just didn’t want to do it. I really forget about them, even though I try really hard.

I write everything down in a notebook I’ve won, use post-its, still sometimes I leave my stuff at school, forget taking a note or looking into my notebook, it’s really tough, but as I said before I try my best.

I hope you enjoyed reading that, I feel like Forrest Gump or an old man, who just told his whole life story to his grandchilds. “Back then in 1943 I fought against all that capitalists on the battlefield”-“Dad, you were born in 1941, so there’s no chance you fought them”-“Leave me alone, that’s my life story”.

Maybe that would have been a better example than the one with the maths student. But, and I really hate repeating myself, I’m trying my best.

1.089 Words


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