After weeks and weeks of ‘study leave’ and ‘world of work’, tomorrow is finally time to go back to school. It terrifies me a little bit all the grown up things I’m going to be doing in the next year; which, as our beloved senior management love to remind us, technically starts tomorrow, 8.45am – because attendance to registration is key, of course. Things like doing my A2s, the last qualification of my school life; applying to universities; visiting universities; going to interviews; being in the oldest year in the school. After a few discussions with school people, we’ve established that we’re all only GCSE students at heart, year 10s, maybe 11s at a push, but it still shocks me that I’m a sixth former and I don’t think I’m ready for it yet.
Things have been a bit strange recently, and I think I must have been one of the most terribly irritating people to be friends with; I pity and thank those who have put up with me. Day to day I seem to flick from really happy to really not, based on circumstances which probably don’t even change. I’d write about them, but I don’t even know what’s going on myself; and I think I’ve been told quite firmly that waiting and trusting and ‘seeing what happens’ actually is the best thing to do.
Susie is watching George Sampson’s first audition again, and is still very much in love with him.
Things have been a bit strange recently, and I think I must have been one of the most terribly irritating people to be friends with; I pity and thank those who have put up with me. Day to day I seem to flick from really happy to really not, based on circumstances which probably don’t even change. I’d write about them, but I don’t even know what’s going on myself; and I think I’ve been told quite firmly that waiting and trusting and ‘seeing what happens’ actually is the best thing to do.
Susie is watching George Sampson’s first audition again, and is still very much in love with him.
