This Is Procrastination

I am currently a gremlin in a reversal of evolution. My room looks like a highly poetic hermit has moved into it. The floor is now entirely made up of mugs, biros and post it notes. Revision is setting in, hard. Over the last few weeks, I've watched teachers stop begging for essay to be handed in, and start drowning under small mountains of them. I've gone from being the student who often forgets homework (and usually does it badly) to the student who follows teachers around going "HAVE YOU MARKED THAT MOCK YET?! HAVE YOU?! DO IT NOW. LET ME WATCH."
I've found a website called Coffitivity which plays the noise of a coffee shop while you work, which is making me a little bit saner. My caffeine intake has gone down by half since the ladies who work the snack bar refused to sell me tea due to how wrecked my dinner card is. I quite like coffee shops, but tend to avoid them as much as possible due to how bloody expensive the tea is. In the 1920's, a cup of tea would usually cost you around 5d, which converts to around 45p in modern money. I realize that inflation rates are much different now, but I'm an English student, and I find counting hard. Even so, this is a drastic difference, when last time I was in Costa, a pot of tea (two small cups) cost £1.70. Even in Berlin where the tea was slightly wank, the it only cost around 80p. Hum hum hum. I would be grateful if the Government stopped coming up with silly new taxes for five minutes and instead capped the price of tea. I am poor and cannot afford it (unless I make a flask of it to carry around, but as if I'd ever be that organised.) 
I think my favorite change in school routine over the last few weeks, is how much the teachers are coping with our, frankly, awful language. In English today, it became acceptable to yell "This child is a goddamn bag of dicks" very early on. With the announcement of a timed mock, it is now fine to just scream "NO" for several minutes straight. I'm not sure if it's a mark that the teachers are just as frustrated as we are, or if they could, actually, possibly, be sad at us leaving. I like to think it''s a little bit of both. I know I'll miss them. The last week has been a series of "Right, how much cake do we want in our last lesson?" and plans for who's going to bring in Articulate. I've had the lady who helps me run LGBT society run across the front of school to give me a hug and tell me I have to come in after exams for "A real party. With biscuits."
It's all just getting very... end-y.