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Hi there, my name is Hazel and I’m what you call a teenager. That’s right, I’m a bundle of hormones and angst in a weird, almost adult like package and I’m going to be writing about my personal experiences, so hopefully, you’ll be able to finally see inside the mind of a teenager.

Be prepared, we’re weird. Trust me on that.

For the first week of the holidays this year, I am proud to say that I spent my days slouching on the sofa in my pyjamas with my phone in my hand and Netflix up and running on my TV. I must of gone through season after season of ‘Friends’ and Stranger Things each day, just relaxing and not doing very much at all. I only got up from the sofa when I needed to, either to get something to eat or to go to the bathroom.

But then, the second week started and I had that realisation, ‘I have actually done nothing so far’ I literally sprinted upstairs, ran to my desk, and grabbed as many school books as I could physically fit into my hands, slumping them onto my living room floor. I even picked up my alarm clock and timed myself so that I wouldn’t do 10 minutes before giving up.

3 minutes in and I remembered one important detail about myself; That I’m lazy.

I know, I know, I know that I should revise but that isn’t what a normal teenager does when they’re on their holidays! We’re obsessed with our phones and clothes, I don’t really understand my generation myself but yet I’m part of it somehow.

One thing that I do know for certain, is that all teenagers have probably had that same realisation that I had a couple of days into my holidays, grabbed their books from their messy desks or untidy floors, and started to revise whatever they can, before giving up. Just like I did.

As I’m going into year 11, the most stressful academic year of my life, I noticed that I need some sort of organisation. A few months ago, I got a brand new desk for my room and I cannot even explain how much better this works compared to my old, previous method of organisation: My floor, regretfully, covered in a mix of school books and scrap pieces of paper with a few items kept on the shelves by my beside.

At the time, I thought, ‘This is completely fine. I know roughly where everything is! I don’t need a desk at all.’ But after having it recently, and actually using it, I have realised that every teenager, my age, older and younger, all need a desk that they can use.

In retrospect, I kind of wish that I had a desk beforehand, when I was revising for my year eight and year nine mock exams as I used to work on my dining room table with the TV in front of me. I admit, not the best idea, most of my writing ended up looking slanted and I always got the weirdest looks from the teachers but they couldn’t complain as the work was always completed.

I mean, as a teenager, one of the things we like to do is going to our friends’ houses. I do this regularly, whether it’s just to do ‘homework’ (dear parents, if your child ever says that they are going to do homework, they aren’t. They are probably going to watch Netflix, I may know this from experience) or to just meet up and hang out together. These meetings always consist of going on a brief house tour even if you’ve been there many, many times before, they still believe that you can’t remember where their bathroom is. These tours always consist of seeing the friends’ bedroom, some being bigger than others.

But all of these bedrooms have one specific detail in common.

They all have a desk.

And now, without further ado, I’m going to do ‘homework’ and by that, I mean Netflix, obviously.

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