I seemed to finish my Personal Statement this morning. That was, er, weird.
No doubt it will get ripped to shreds by a trillion people before I submit it, but writing the last line felt good. I'm not stressed about uni really. What? What do you mean you don't believe me? Verging on mental breakdowns constantly? You've received 5 emails of distress from me? Oh.
Honestly though, September's been ace. I'm 18. EIGHTEEN!
Did somebody say September? I'm sure I heard that. It's not July is it? S e p t e m b e r? The Autumn month? Yes I thought so. SO WHY IS IT 30C today??? No am I not happy about this. I have a new coat. It's burgundy. It has a very furry hood and I look like an eskimo. LET ME LOOK LIKE AN ESKIMO. I'm sure I heard my legs screaming in horror at being let out into the light today. Gorgeous red leaves, newly fallen on the ground, were shouting, "BUT IT WAS MY TIME. MY TIME TO SHINE IS NOW. WHY AM I NOT CRUNCHING? HELP ME UP, FFS. GET ME BACK ON THAT TREE." Even the slugs fell victim to the chaos. Thinking everything was dark, wet, and cold. Poor souls. They're the ones all crunched up on the ground, not the leaves. The only ones getting away with this are the daddylonglegs. Gliding around like they own the effing place. Spiders I can deal with. But daddylonglegs unleash emotions and actions I never knew I had.
So yeah being 18's involved going out A LOT. Going to pubs, clubs, parties, buying cigar...*fades to black and silence. head pops into shot, and body shuffles in* Hahahahahaahaha...oh, you thought I was SERIOUS?
I've been fangirling the hell out of Doctor Who, geeking out over Stephen Fry's Planet Word, adding copious amounts of books to my Amazon wishlist, and voicing the tripod in War Of The Worlds in French with my friends, consequently crying with laughter and doubling over in stomach pain.
The only remotely 18 year oldish thing I've done is click "I am over 18" boxes on websites with TRUTH. My 18yo life > your 18yo life.