Yep. I'm having one of those moments again. You know the ones - the ones with sharp teeth and pointy fingers that creep up on you, jump into your head and tangle your life up like a set of earbud headphones.
It's the end of term which, in boarding school lingo, translates as chaos to the Nth degree.
- Packing. Everything.
- Setting holiday work.
- Planning revision for hugely important public examinations in just under a month.
- Finding time to execute said revision when mother seems intent on visiting every relative under the sun, yet still expects you to come out with straight As.
- A four-day trek on one of the island of Britain's largest moors, with its very own sadistic microclimate.
- Banging your head on the ceiling because your bedroom roof slopes. Which really doesn't help.
*le sigh* And did I mention everyone is doing this at the same time? So, not only am I in the sort of mood that usually incites me to murder small animals with blunt weapons, but so are the other forty-score teenage girls in my boarding house. Twelve of them being my own age, and dealing with exactly the same stresses over these demonic exams.
GCSE ate my brain, but AS is slowly devouring my soul. And my sanity.
And, unless I get this revision right, possibly my future. AS results make the difference between a place at Oxford, or sitting on a street corner, eating out of a bin bag. Quite literally, if you listen to some of the horror stories.
Hehehe. You get the idea.
Wish my poor braincells luck with all this? I'm going to be absent from Thursday - off on the aforementioned Expedition From (potential) Hell. Then getting down to revision. Big time.
Someone hand me that sword - I have an exam to slay!
*launches herself into the sunset, attempting to look epic, but steps on the hem of her cloak, trips over the scabbard, dislodges oversized helmet and ends up flat on her face in a pile of armour, flailing limbs and colourful language*
I meant to do that. Honest.
- Charley R
