Monday, July 22, 2024
HomeScribbleDay in the Life of a Conservative at Tech

Day in the Life of a Conservative at Tech

As a conservative at Tech, I feel as if I am an outsider most days at school. However, with this article, I hope to call attention to my struggles. Every morning, I wake up with the sun instead of an alarm clock, unlike these snowflakes who believe in “daylight savings.” Lately, my firm belief against daylight savings has proven useful to me. I arrive at school at 8:40, but everyone else shows up at 9:40. I use this time to buy a 100% dairy milk latte from Blue Bottle, which I started drinking as a habit when that one girl told me she stopped getting matcha at Blue Bottle because they’re owned by the conglomerate Nestle. I also stopped by the main office to talk to admin about bringing back the American flag in front of our school. The empty pole looks so isolated and unpatriotic.

My first class is Fashion Marketing. My peers often misunderstand my cottage-core, housewife, minimalist, Abigail Shapiro, young nun inspired designs, but I’ve learned that I can ultimately profit from hatred. After that, I have advisory, which is obviously a liberal scheme to condition young minds into taking breaks within their workday. I protest this by using my time productively to leave body-shaming comments under any liberal female politician I see on Twitter. My next class is Paideia, which I’ve been trying to switch out of ever since I heard my teacher is actually a Marxist. I was shocked to say the least, especially considering I have previously regarded her as such an agreeable teacher for the entire past semester. 

After that, I meet up with my best friend Dave. He has it harder than me, considering he is a conservative in the RPL Academy. Sometimes he comes to me crying about the Critical Race Theory in his curriculum, which is fortunately generally neglected in Paidea. It should be a crime to make students sit through those bogus lessons. Dave and I usually go to Burger King for lunch, but we never wait long because we are the only ones not scared enough to order real beef meat burgers like we were supposed to. Then, I gather the courage to use the school bathroom, which has and continues to scar me with its increasingly profane and satanic graffiti. My last class of the day is Statistics. I believe that the use of so many words in what is supposed to be a math class is nothing short of propaganda. Staying true to my beliefs, I leave class an hour early to go home because the Sun tells me when to leave, not a bell.