Schoolitis: A Survivor's Tale

School is getting to some of my friends.
Who can say why? Possibly it's just holiday withdrawal symptoms. Perhaps the cold, cold weather causes something deep within them to react. Maybe it's a result of the dancing lessons we are given at this point of the year (due to it being too cold to get changed into proper PE uniform - although personally, I think the teachers are just feeling down at having to come back to school and are forcing us to perform inept, and sometimes painful, waltzing steps, to cheer themselves up).

At any rate, whatever the cause is, it is having quite serious implications.

Let us call this mysterious illness 'schoolitis'. It is virtually untraceable, and has no symptoms other than instances of unduly silly behaviour. But it is a serious problem, a fact I will outline through five examples taken from real life.

The first attack began at about 1:15 yesterday afternoon, while we were having lunch. Ariane and Lala - two friends I believe I haven't mentioned yet, but will no doubt get their due share of mentions in the future - began to laugh. I forget what at. I think they were throwing nuts at somebody and it snowballed from there. It was astounding. Normally, it is usual to stop laughing after a given amount of time, varying upon the funniness of the joke in question and the person or people one is sharing it with. In this case, it didn't stop. I've a feeling they were still chortling as we headed off to our classes, at the end of lunch.

The second instance occurred in double Geography, a class I share with Peanut. Little did I know, as I headed into the classroom, what was about to unfold. Even simple things - such as asking her where the Three Gorges Dam could be found on a map - sent her into a fit of silent laughter. I had assumed it would get better when we went to the library to work on our assignments. It did not. I will not go into the painful details, merely state that it involved her nearly falling off a chair, and then becoming intensely distracted by a book about Christmas. The book was actually an improvement. Still, you can see how worrying this behaviour was to me at the time.

The third instance of this horrible disease happened to Vyvyan. She continually jumped at me suddenly from behind, shocking me and nearly causing me to spill my Ovalteenies on a number of occasions. Actually, I'm not sure this counts as a case, as this is normal behaviour for Vyvyan. I had thought Marie-Clare was another sufferer, when she dragged me out to the oval in the middle of lunch, then spent about five minutes hiding behind a tree at the edge of the grass. Except then I realised all she really wanted to do was spy on a boy she likes - we shall call him 25, as that is the number on the back of his sports shirt - so this cannot be counted as a case either.

The fourth case occurred in physics. I'm not going so well on my quest to completely own Gwen in this subject. We were doing an experiment involving pendulums. That is to say, Gwen was doing the experiment, a boy from our class called U (he's not going to turn up again, he doesn't need a proper nickname) was dropping the pendulum, and I was sitting on a desk holding a stopwatch and humming obscure songs from the late 1930s. Well, I only know one song from the late 1930s, and that only goes for about a minute and a half, so I hummed it a few times until Gwen asked me to stop. Anyway, this particular case of schoolitis resulted from U being an idiot. He thought it was cool, after having dropped the pendulum, to move his face in extremely close to it, and move it out of the way again just in time. After he'd done this two or three times he got hit by the pendulum - which weighed 250g - in the forehead. I'm not sure this is schoolitis either. I don't know him that well: it might be normal behaviour for him. I just thought I'd add it in as it was hilarious at the time, although I had to keep a straight face while Gwen was getting slightly annoyed at him for messing up our measurements.

The fifth case of schoolitis happened to Aviator. He has created a dance. It is called the 'Fishing Rod Dance'. He shuffle-steps while pretending to catch something with a fishing rod. It looks better than I've managed to describe it here. He performed it for us at lunchtime. This sent Ariane and Lala into another fit of giggles.

And so, there you are. Schoolitis. A disease which causes even the most mild-mannered individuals to break into spontaneous outbursts of silly behaviour. It is not fatal - at least, we have seen no fatal cases as of yet. Should you, the concerned reader, notice the same symptoms among your friends, contact me with the case details. We may, still, have time to prevent it from becoming an epidemic.

A sixth case has suddenly occurred to me. I had not intended to include it: but as I am approaching this from a purely scientific perspective (actually, who am I trying to kid?) I think it is important to note personal cases as well. It is a sad truth, but I have lately noticed some traces of schoolitis in myself. In my case, the disease manifests itself as a delusion that I am a trained therapist. It generally seems to occur while I am in Gwen's presence. I cannot say why I have spent the past one and a half science lessons trying to convince her I have a PhD in psychotherapy from the prestigious university of Uttoxetercamfordbridgedam. Perhaps you, with your greater scientific mind, will know why. If you believe you have an answer, do leave a comment: it is vital we find a cure before my mind, and others', succumb completely to schoolitis. Please. We need your help.

Dr Leslie M. Harper, PhD (Uttoxetercamfordbridgedam)