My first day of school essay

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The Story of My Life

Is this a good essay about my first day of high school? The beeping of my alarm clock sounded like a countdown. The first day of high school was only two hours away.

I was excited, but a lot more nervous.

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I got out of bed, got ready, and then cover letter for cfo on my way to the bus stop. All I could think of are the stories I heard about high school being so horrible with all the The bus ride to the school was only ten minutes, but it seemed a lot longer.

When we finally got there, I was more nervous than ever. The day ahead of me was about to get a lot more complicated though with locker trouble, finding a seat at lunch, and getting lost.

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Before long, it was time to get off the bus. When I got off, I saw that there were two doors. Turns out I picked the one that led me to the C hall, when I was supposed to go to the A hall.

I walked around lost for about fifteen minutes until I finally found my locker. When I got there, I forgot how to open it.

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After five minutes of trying to figure it out, I finally got it open. I grabbed my books and went to class. I then realized I accidentally left it in my locker. I had to go back to my homeroom teacher and ask for the combination again.

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I was late for my next class by ten minutes, which is not a very good start. Afterwards, it was lunch time. I dropped off my books at my locker, and walked down with a friend.

We went up to get our lunch and came back to find our chairs were gone.

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We soon found out getting up meant risking your seat. So we had to walk to another table and get new chairs and bring them all the way back to our table. The whole lunch period everyone was talking about how their day went so far. Most of them were complaining, including me.

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Then the bell rang and it was time to go to sixth period. But on the other hand, atleast there were only 3 periods left of the day. Finally, it was the end of the day.

Finding my next 3 classes were easier.

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When my 8th period ended, it was a huge relief. The little blind children at the Perkins Institution had sent it and Laura Bridgman day first it; but I did not school this until afterward. When I had start off college essay essay it a little while, Miss Sullivan slowly spelled into my hand the word "d-o-l-l.

When I finally succeeded in making the letters correctly I was flushed with childish pleasure and pride.

Running downstairs to my mother I held up my hand and made the letters for doll. I did not know that I was spelling a word or even that words existed; I was simply making my fingers go in monkey-like imitation.

In the days that followed I learned to spell in this uncomprehending way a great many words, among them pin, hat, cup and a few verbs like sit, stand and walk. But my teacher had been with me several weeks before I understood that everything has a name.

One day, while I was playing with my new doll, Miss Sullivan put my big rag doll into my lap also, spelled "d-o-l-l" and tried to make me understand that "d-o-l-l" applied to both.

Earlier in the day we had had a tussle over the words "m-u-g" and "w-a-t-e-r. In despair she mixed race dissertation dropped the subject for the time, only to renew it at the first opportunity.

Is this a good essay about my first day of high school?

I became impatient at her repeated attempts and, seizing the new doll, I dashed it upon the floor. I was keenly delighted when I felt the fragments of the broken doll at my feet. Neither sorrow nor regret followed my easy mba dissertation outburst.

I had not loved the doll. In the still, dark world in which I lived there was no strong sentiment or tenderness. I felt my teacher sweep the fragments to one side of the hearth, and I had a sense of satisfaction that the cause of my discomfort was removed.

She brought me my hat, and I knew I was going out into the warm sunshine.

This thought, if a wordless sensation may be called a thought, made me hop and skip with pleasure. We walked down the path to the well-house, attracted by the fragrance of the honeysuckle with which it was covered. Some one was drawing water and my teacher placed my hand under the spout. As the cool stream gushed over one hand she spelled into the other the word water, first slowly, then rapidly.

The First Day of High School

I stood still, my whole attention fixed upon the motions of her fingers. Suddenly I felt a misty consciousness as of something forgotten--a thrill of returning thought; and somehow the mystery of language was revealed to me. I knew then that "w-a-t-e-r" meant the wonderful cool something that was flowing over my hand.