In thrall to the rules. If only I was enough of a rebel to stick up for the kids next door constantly shouted at during netball

 Carrie Quinlan The Guardian, Monday 19 October 2009 http://tiny.cc/uyxKt

My male teenage friends (yes, I do have some: I’m cool) will be envious to hear that my new flat overlooks the netball court of a girls’ secondary school. For me, though, it’s faintly depressing. Not because of the gleeful shouts of joy from the playground during games of … whatever it is the kids play these days. Not because of youthful high jinks causing the property prices to drop, or wistful thoughts of my own teenage years, wasted because I didn’t realise how fabulous I was. No. I find it terribly depressing because they get shouted at all the time. There I’ll be, in my flat, working hard at the computer or reading Proust (trans: making tea and watching Star Trek: Voyager), and the markedly less than dulcet tones of a PE teacher or head of year will float through the window mocking the kids for not being able to catch or threatening them with detention if they dare speak.

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