It was a half-day. Well, not exactly half, more like three-fourths or five-sixths. Whichever. But our departure was on 1:15pm. Early, for once. The usual was on 3:20.

Despite the supposedly short day I was supposed to go through, I still arrived, as always, groggy and sleepy from my car to the Multi-Purpose Building.

The building's large, generally. Larger than most schools'. But still, it was surprisingly small compared to our school's population.

Let's see... We have like two thousand plus (all girl) students, two hundred or so teachers, a principal (a nun, for that matter), an assistant for her, an academic coordinator, and those weird people who never seem to do anything but walk around and talk to random people about stuff we could only guess about. And that didn't include the manongs and manangs (janitors and janitresses, who also serve as lunch guys and ladies).

The sight that came before me gradually as I climb up the steps was the usual one. Those sporty girls throwing balls at each other, noisy Bruha's who were sitting down and talking to each other as if their life depended on it, quiet girls (my favorite) who just sat down on their places (mainly the floor) and read, or did their assignments. Being a student, you have to learn to sit on the floor sometime. Your arse touching the cold linoleum was a familiar feeling if you studied here.

I went quietly to my place. Being a grade 7 student, we sat facing the middle of the building, which, by the way, is a very dangerous place if you don't want the birds to drop their shit on you, since there was a big window on top of the building.

I sat down quietly and slept until half-past seven, when my seatmate, Lui Kerplunk, woke me up to, miraculously, low (if not zero) noise level. The music was playing from the backstage, and it was a rule that when it starts, we should all shut the hell up.

I wiped my eyes and prepared myself for a very looonng morning talk. I hated Mondays. We met up here during Mondays, and listened to stupid speeches and such.

Anyway, soon enough, it started.

Our assistant principle climbed up the stage, as usual, and said: "Please rise." We did this EVERY week. Everybody was too familiar with her boring, straight voice that almost all of us could imitate her during breaks and do an impression, followed by howls of laughter.

This was one of the few parts that actually made sense in this gathering. It was the singing of the National Anthem, Lupang Hinirang.

I'm loyal to the Philippines. Amor Patriae was my thang at this.

I sang. Our class adviser went up beside our line, and that was the time my classmates started to sing -- meaning COMPREHENSIBLE singing, not the usual mumbling that they did when no one's looking.

Then, we had the gospel, I like this part. It wasn't actually the reading for Monday, but it was for Sunday. I don't know just why they do that; they just do.

Then came the inevitable: our principal's homily.

Not that I have anything angainst the gospel, no. I just said that I like it, didn't I? But the fact that she actually feels that it's her mortal obligation to give us cliche' and corny lines that make us even more groggy, that's out of the question.

After finishing with the prayer, we had the assistant principal's bragging.

Well, it wasn't exactly called bragging; they call it "congratulating" exemplary students.

It took about ten minutes, and then we had the schedule. It was necessary, I let it pass.

The day seemed rather, well, short after that.