There is nothing quite like exam results to sober you up from sun kissed holiday bliss. Two weeks in Devon doesn't quite match up to the other 50 or so weeks of pure terror and hatred of my own A level capability, the other 50 or so weeks of doubting my university prospects, or the other 50 or so weeks of watching 'talking' cats on YouTube (they don't talk by the way, trust me, they just meow weirdly). The point i'm getting at is that I've been taking it easy this year, specifically the last month or two and a exam results, regardless of the results, are like being pelted in the face with several books simultaneously.
The idea of university scares me and the idea of paying a couple of thousand pounds doesn't bother me anymore, I know it will come back to haunt me for the rest of my life but I've just got to embrace that. If i'm honest, i'm sick of older people telling me the issues that come with going to university. Having gone through many many conferences and information evenings based solely on going to uni, and I've heard a tonne of horror stories but i think, and i must stress, i can make my own decisions and further to that, i can make my own mistakes.
If I'm brutally honest, bring on the next year; I'm petrified of you. It's going to make me wake up, and actually look at my future and assess what I'm capable of. I just hope that we can be friends and that every 4 weeks you and I can have a serious drink, because I don't think I will be able to cope other wise.
But right now, I'd like a litre of vodka and a huge tub of ice cream. September isn't here yet and who needs a liver anyway. I'll see you then, exams, old friend.
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