The waiting game

As I grow fond of Olives, constantly crave a cuppa and get excited for a night in with Bubble, I wonder if maybe what I thought would never happen, may just be happening. I’m growing up.

Of course I still love a night out, but spending over half a week either drunk or hungover isn’t as appealing anymore. University has been the best years of my life and I’ve learnt so much about myself and am so happy I went but after three years of waking up to a kitchen smelling of beer, where you have to tip toe over pizza crusts from the night before isn’t all it’s cracked up to be anymore. Especially when there’s a farm house in the middle of the country side, with a fridge full of bacon, rooms filled with cats and a family full of love not far away. Possibly I’m growing up? Perhaps three years is long enough? But maybe, it’s because everything is starting to fall in place and I’m getting excited about what’s to come.

 As many people believe, Friday 13th brings bad luck, but on Friday 13th of this month, I got a very exciting e-mail. “Thank you for your application to study PGCE at the University of East Anglia. We are pleased to inform you that you have been selected to attend an interview at the University.” How exciting… I thought.

I ring mum, but she doesn’t pick up as she’s working. So I ring dad, resulting in tears of happiness. But in-between the time of speaking to dad, and mum ringing me back I had received an email to tell me when the interview would happen, only  7 days later, and what the interview entailed: A 45 minute interview with a head teacher and lecturer; a book presentation which involved me choosing a children’s book and presenting why I felt the book would be beneficial in a classroom, to the other applicants, the teacher and lecturer and completing a written task within the three hours I would be there. So by the time mum had got back to me, I was crying all sorts of tears.

So the next 7 days were full of tears and tantrums, nerves and nightmares. What will I wear?! What questions will they ask?! What if my book doesn’t arrive in time?! How do I get there?! What if the reason I got my interview on Friday 13th was because it’s going to go wrong?! What if I forget everything and just burst into tears?! What if I forget what my name is?!

7 sleepless nights later, the morning arrived and I’d never felt so nervous in my life. I think the reason I felt different this time to previous interviews was because of how much I want it. For once in my life, I was 100% sure on something and if I get a place this year I won’t have 16 months to fill before I could apply again.

I’m not going to go into the details of the interview because I’m sure that wouldn’t interest you… Well I guess I could pretend that was why. But more honestly, I’ve got a new kitten and I want to go and tickle his tummy. But oh my gosh, I think it went really well! Every question I’d prepared myself for came up and I managed to answer every one well, I think, and very naturally. I managed to present my book without any nerves popping up, and I remembered my name! And I have a lovely little feeling inside, that it may have been down to a very special flower up there who was holding my hand throughout.

So now I wait for a response, 1-3 weeks to go and I have all my fingers crossed and that’s more than you have on your hands as I’m from Norfolk. So if you wouldn’t mind, could you cross your fingers for me too please and hopefully you’ll be reading a blog very shortly, filled of excitement in caps lock.

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Fresh, once more

For some reason I feel like I should apologise, apologise for promising a lot of blog posts over the summer and not writing a single one. But then reality hits me and I remember that I’m not one of those ‘famous bloggers’, with millions of subscribers all over the world and in fact, I’m just a 20 year old who has too much to say and knows where to put a comma, I think?

So where have I been, you ask? Well, I’ve just been so busy, managing 4-day jobs, 1 evening job and caring for my newborn and I just haven’t really had the time to blog. I hope you can all forgive and forget.

If only I really did have an excuse like that… Lets go back to an evening back in August, where I bumped into an old school friend, Ewan, who before conversation had barely begun, told me off for not blogging enough. Blog? Blogging? What’s that? And then it clicked. I’d clearly been enjoying summer too much that I had completely forgotten I had a blog. So thanks Ewan, for not only sparing a few minutes to read my blog every now and then but also for giving me a kick up the arse and getting me back to the keyboard.

Although, I do feel I deserve a little bit of a pat on the back for something. This summer I have been working my absolute bum off with University work and I’m feeling very prepared to begin my final year when I return back to Lincoln. Yet on the other hand, I do not feel ready to go back at all. I mean, how do you prepare yourself for 7 nights of solid drinking after having a summer consisting mainly of nights on the sofa with a handful of cats? Unfortunately, no matter how many Barocca’s I could drink, Pizza’s I could polish off at the end of a night and how much I could pretend I’m on Geordie Shore, I don’t think there’s anything I can do to avoid the next mornings hangover… and the 6 after that. But where’s the fun in thinking of the morning after? This is the last fresher’s of my life, I’m living with my boyfriend and two of my best friends and you only bloody live once! YOBLO. So no excuses, I’m going to make sure I’m out 7/7 nights and am going to make sure it’s the best week of my life to date.

I read something the other day that went:

If you have food in your fridge, clothes on your back, a roof over your head and a place to sleep you are richer than 75% of the world. If you have money in the bank, your wallet, and some spare change you are among the top 8% of the worlds wealthy. If you woke up this morning with more health than illness you are more blessed than the million people who will not survive this week. If you have never experience the danger of battle, the agony of imprisonment or torture, or the horrible pangs of starvation you are luckier than 500% million people alive and suffering. If you can read this message you are more fortunate than 3 billion people in the world who cannot read at all.

So whilst I sit here moaning about an upcoming hangover, praying for one more Pringle to appear in the bottom of the tube I realise just how lucky I really am, (Not just because I ate the whole tube and didn’t have to share.) This summer I’ve treasured every minute I can with my family and my very precious Bubble, I’ve made sure I’ve seen all 4 of my grandparents at least once a fortnight, I’ve got some of the best friends in the whole world, two of which I’ve got back after 4 years and some who I can’t wait to catch up with back at Uni. Lewis and me are as good as ever and I’m very grateful for his family who has made me feel so welcome. I’m healthy, I’m happy and for that, I’m very grateful. I’m going to go back to Uni and hopefully leave this year again with a 2:1, I’m going to dive into fresher’s like its my first one all over again and I’m not going to take anyone or anything for granted.

Look at me, rambling on again pretending to myself that there’s someone the other side of the screen absolutely engrossed. (If anyone is still reading, and remotely interested, top effort.) I promise my next post will be less deep, and more recent than in 4 months time.

I hope all of you have had a lovely summer, take care xxx