"I'm sick of all these pointless brand mails, tricking me into thinking I'm important enough to have real e-mails sent to me", I grumbled to myself this morning. Every now and then I occasionally check my Yahoo account, full of hope for a life changing mail offering me a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to escape the dull, colourless scenery that is England.
Of course, this hasn't actually happened yet. But it'll be a while until I put those sweet little dreams to bed...
This morning I bit the bullet and simply unsubscribed from all of these notifcations, then felt an overwhelming sense of sorrow as it dawned on me that I will now never recieve an email. Life changing or otherwise.
This has absolutely nothing to do with anything.
I should really revise more thoroughly on the weekends; no half-hearted glances at a textbook, limply leafing through my anthology or writing down a few monosyllabic words on empty pages. During the weekdays at college I've grown deft at taking myself to the library, looking as unapproachable as possible to deter any distractions and doing some genuinely productive work. These are the revision sessions that what I learn stays with me, because I'm not surrounded by Cooler And More Fun-Looking Things To Do.
Part of being Under-21 is that I have mastered the fine art of constructing any situation so it is considerably uglier than its reality. Thus, I can easily utilise the excuse I've been repeating for every monumental failure that's ever occured in my college life - I'm a boarder. Not only am I faced by the perils of exams, coursework and a few real cretins for classmates, I don't even have my mother's lap to sit on or my Dad to shake me by the shoulders and tell me an old army anecdote of his that makes my situation look trivial ("how could I have EVER been so silly by worrying about THAT old thing"...). Generally, I take an extremely rational approach to voicing my excuses:
"MUUUUUM!!!! I can't do it! I can hear people enjoying their lives in the corridor and it's putting me off and I have to tidy my room because I can't concentrate in a messy room even though I've done that all my life and I have loads of washing to do and I can't go about with dirty clothes and I'm really tired because the bed springs here are trying to impale me and I JUST MISS YOU AND DAD SO MUCH!"
The problem is, I have "aspirations". These are to go to a university I'd genuinely worked hard to get to, study English Literature with Creative Writing, become a little bit more interesting and find a rich man - the latter being something that will probably not directly correlate with my A Level results. I occasionally weep over this.
And this supposedly marks the end of a terrible monologue that was intended to announce that I'm embarking on a blogging diet. Blogging is the chocolate in my life; I eat too much of it, slowly making me fatter. I abandon all the other good food in this world; this being a poorly-phrased metaphor for my studies, and The Only Way Is Essex, which I'm also falling behind on. So during the exam period, I'm cutting down drastically on Blogspot. This is a "see'ya later"...
It's been grand, guys. But you don't want Hell to freeze over when I don't get my predicted grades in August, just as much as I don't. xxxxxxxxxxxx
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