So here it is. I have 25 days before I’m on my way to Lincoln University. I have pots, pans, woks (yes, woks!), towels, plates, cups, knives, forks, spoons, clothes, music all lining my bedroom floor waiting to be put in the cardboard boxes outside my room as we speak. I’ve got my A-level results, which are fine, and I’m in the process of opening a student account which has been a little problematic…
So why am I not panicking right now?
Seriously, I just don’t get it. I’m the kind of guy who could psychosomatically induce major illness because whenever major events have happened in my life before I can become a nervous wreck. But now it’s like I’ve transcended beyond worry…or I’ve reached a point where I just don’t care anymore. I went to my college to pick up my results and there were people sobbing their hearts out because they didn’t get perfect grades. I came out with the worst grades I have ever had and didn’t batter an eyelid. I have always been a mummy’s boy, a total introvert so that I only have two real friends to date and yet even with the prospect of overwhelming social contact approaching I am just not really bothered.
That’s about it.