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Life is great and life is fine 'cause I've met a girl and no-one likes you...
Yes, the return of the Great Yellow Pages Song, courtesy of Fidan and a boring Biology lesson. I have been humming it abstractedly all day, in between everything else that persists on happening to me. I didn't update yesterday because my insomnia struck back with a vengeance over the weekend and having learnt my medication-of-any-sort-is-a-bad-bad-idea lesson, I just dealt with it the old fashioned way, ie, staring at the ceiling. At the end of the school day yesterday, I informed Mrs O'Connor I was asleep, and promptly went to sleep. I actually felt rather guilty about it afterwards, because I was so deeply asleep I can't remember a single thing that happened during the lesson. They say hearing is the last sense to go on the way down, and I dimly recall whispered fragments about language use in Othello, but more than that I could not say.
I feel much better today, which is good. Tired, but I'm always tired, and not so tired I can't cope. I got myself mentored as usual, philosophy today, and that was unexpectedly enlightening particularly as Miranda and Sam were squawking in the background. Then I went to Chemistry where we may have killed Mrs Miller.
Well, it wasn't exactly intentional. She said, does anyone have a calculation book, and no-one did, and then she asked does anyone have an A2 textbook and two people out of seven did. We can get them from the common room, we said, and she stamped her foot and shouted no-one was going anywhere. She stalked off through the back door of the lab, snarling in a very motherly way that we'd finally driven her insane.
"I think we broke her," I said.
Several people nodded thoughtfully.
Five minutes she came back in. "The photocopier's broken!"
In the end, she put the questions on the board, and we did them and got them right, mostly. No lasting harm done. We didn't actually drive her round the proverbial bend.
Talking of being driven round the bend, I'm rather sick of how my life now revolves around UCAS, and I'm probably boring everyone to death with my form-related trials and tribulations, so a brief explanation of what I'm doing, because I feel the need to be verbose.
UCAS is basically a centralised system for applying to universities and colleges in Britain. You can't apply without going through UCAS and following standard procedure; you get a form that everyone has to fill in. Well, we call it a form out of habit, as it's not paper any more. It's entirely electronic, which is a vast improvement on the days where it was paper and had to be restarted from scratch if you made the barest mistake. You fill in everything about yourself - your name, address, nationality, qualifications, employment, special needs, everything - and where you want to go. You get six choices of where you can apply to, and no more - if they all reject you, then you've got problems. And your personal statement, the most important part, is a free text box in which you explain who you are, why you want to do this course, and why accepting you would be a very good idea.
Then you send it off and wait for universities to either give you an offer or call you for interview. By the time you sit your A-levels, you hopefully have a conditional offer (or more than one) of some sort. You then hope and pray you achieve the grades you were predicted, and then you live happily ever after.
That's how it works in theory. In practice, there are added complications. UCAS opens on September 1st and closed on January 15th - unless you're applying to Oxford or Cambridge, or applying for Medicine, Dentistry or Veterinary Science, in which case the deadline is October 15th. The fact this is two weeks away is doing bad things to my stress level.
My form is being processed as I speak. I do hope there are no more bits to add to my personal statement, as I'm entirely sick of it. I wanted to have everything done before the weekend so I can just enjoy the con.
Talking of which, it's the bright spot on the horizon. I can't say how much I'm looking forward to it. Bring on the geekery and further ammunition for The Colleen Show. I am now going to do this thing we call work. Boo.
Yes, the return of the Great Yellow Pages Song, courtesy of Fidan and a boring Biology lesson. I have been humming it abstractedly all day, in between everything else that persists on happening to me. I didn't update yesterday because my insomnia struck back with a vengeance over the weekend and having learnt my medication-of-any-sort-is-a-bad-bad-idea lesson, I just dealt with it the old fashioned way, ie, staring at the ceiling. At the end of the school day yesterday, I informed Mrs O'Connor I was asleep, and promptly went to sleep. I actually felt rather guilty about it afterwards, because I was so deeply asleep I can't remember a single thing that happened during the lesson. They say hearing is the last sense to go on the way down, and I dimly recall whispered fragments about language use in Othello, but more than that I could not say.
I feel much better today, which is good. Tired, but I'm always tired, and not so tired I can't cope. I got myself mentored as usual, philosophy today, and that was unexpectedly enlightening particularly as Miranda and Sam were squawking in the background. Then I went to Chemistry where we may have killed Mrs Miller.
Well, it wasn't exactly intentional. She said, does anyone have a calculation book, and no-one did, and then she asked does anyone have an A2 textbook and two people out of seven did. We can get them from the common room, we said, and she stamped her foot and shouted no-one was going anywhere. She stalked off through the back door of the lab, snarling in a very motherly way that we'd finally driven her insane.
"I think we broke her," I said.
Several people nodded thoughtfully.
Five minutes she came back in. "The photocopier's broken!"
In the end, she put the questions on the board, and we did them and got them right, mostly. No lasting harm done. We didn't actually drive her round the proverbial bend.
Talking of being driven round the bend, I'm rather sick of how my life now revolves around UCAS, and I'm probably boring everyone to death with my form-related trials and tribulations, so a brief explanation of what I'm doing, because I feel the need to be verbose.
UCAS is basically a centralised system for applying to universities and colleges in Britain. You can't apply without going through UCAS and following standard procedure; you get a form that everyone has to fill in. Well, we call it a form out of habit, as it's not paper any more. It's entirely electronic, which is a vast improvement on the days where it was paper and had to be restarted from scratch if you made the barest mistake. You fill in everything about yourself - your name, address, nationality, qualifications, employment, special needs, everything - and where you want to go. You get six choices of where you can apply to, and no more - if they all reject you, then you've got problems. And your personal statement, the most important part, is a free text box in which you explain who you are, why you want to do this course, and why accepting you would be a very good idea.
Then you send it off and wait for universities to either give you an offer or call you for interview. By the time you sit your A-levels, you hopefully have a conditional offer (or more than one) of some sort. You then hope and pray you achieve the grades you were predicted, and then you live happily ever after.
That's how it works in theory. In practice, there are added complications. UCAS opens on September 1st and closed on January 15th - unless you're applying to Oxford or Cambridge, or applying for Medicine, Dentistry or Veterinary Science, in which case the deadline is October 15th. The fact this is two weeks away is doing bad things to my stress level.
My form is being processed as I speak. I do hope there are no more bits to add to my personal statement, as I'm entirely sick of it. I wanted to have everything done before the weekend so I can just enjoy the con.
Talking of which, it's the bright spot on the horizon. I can't say how much I'm looking forward to it. Bring on the geekery and further ammunition for The Colleen Show. I am now going to do this thing we call work. Boo.
