Saturday, 28 November 2015

Settling Back into the Blogosphere

Like a phoenix rising from the ashes of destruction, I am rising from beneath piles of sheets, mind maps and felt tip pens to return to blogging, which I have desperately missed for ages

Honestly, losing track of the time in between uploading my posts is so easy when I'm consumed with work which, for the record, I'm definitely not exaggerating about - well, try sitting a ridiculous number of mock exams within the space of two weeks! Thankfully for my (and everybody else's) sake, my mocks have reached a delightful end, and I can now relax a little bit more; without a doubt, having a nervous breakdown over the menstrual cycle is certainly not how I wish to spend my weekend!

Anyway, I've been pretty much just trying to survive the unavoidable stresses which slap you in the face like a frisbee whacking a Hollywood star's fake nose all month and, if I do say so myself, I think that I've done quite a good job. For starters, I was one mark off a B in both my Biology and Chemistry mocks - so close to reaching my aspirational targets that I could literally feel euphoria bursting inside of me like a firework exploding in the sky - yet I'm nonetheless thrilled with my progress because I completely missed out on studying the specific units due to not attending my present school when they originally taught it. 

As was the case when I joined my school one year ago next Friday (which I shall be celebrating by sitting my Science ISA all day - never have I preserved such a ironic sense of humour), I've had to devote a lot of time to catching up in Science which, as it doesn't come naturally to me like annotating a poem or translating a passage in French does, has considerably stressed me out over the past few weeks. Despite my reputation for slightly over-exaggerating my views at times, I couldn't have possibly been closer to the truth by describing my immense fear of sitting my Science mocks around two weeks ago: I was certain that failure was destined to pour teardrops of despair upon me. Still, I carried on revising as much as I could, and hoped for the best - fortunately, I managed to pass all of my Science mocks, unlike quite a few of my fellow classmates who did not miss out on being taught the content! 

All in all, I'm only starting to pull myself out of the vast pool that is my studies for the first time in weeks and, between yourself and I, doing what I want to do - without being crushed by waves of guilt for 'wasting' precious hours that could be used for revision - has lifted a massive weight off my shoulders. Of course, I have no regrets over giving up certain activities - such as this blog - for the sake of literally tattooing algebraic equations onto my brain because my confidence in many subjects, such as Maths and obviously Science, has soared as a result of realising my abilities; beforehand, I wasn't entirely sure about whether I could reach my aspirations in all of my subjects, yet these fears are slowly melting away and being replaced with a strengthened belief in myself. 

OK, catching up with my favourite TV shows guarantees hours of priceless entertainment, but will it lend me a helping hand as I waltz down a path to my personal success? Not really. Making sacrifices has been difficult at times because I've been forced to fight against the urge to indulge in my deepest pleasures, such as baking a batch of cookies or going into town for the afternoon, yet I wouldn't have it any other way if giving up several things is necessary for achieving success. Besides, the said sacrifices don't last forever - as if I'd willingly stay away from the TV remote for longer than a week or two!

Despite my mocks seemingly filling up every spare moment that I've had of late, time has nevertheless been reserved for thinking about my future which, like Christmas, is approaching nearer and nearer towards me everyday. For a while, I had been asking myself about whether I wanted to stay or move on from my current school after Year 11 is over. The reason why? Unlike other sixth forms in the local area, my school would limit my A-Level options to just three instead of the usual four, which I strongly felt would make the usually agonising task of settling on a single career significantly harder because of having a restricted taste in possible subject areas. 

Although I only found this out around a week ago, my school has dropped French from its A-Level curriculum from next year, which is an absolute no-no: I would be a chef with no culinary skills if I had to abandon ma belle langue seconde! Therefore, whether I liked the idea or not before, I definitely will not be staying on at my school this time next year, which promises a fresh adventure for me before I hopefully go to university and beyond. 

A fortnight ago, I attended an open evening for the selective girls' sixth form in town, which ironically fell on the same day that I'd started my mock exams (in Maths and English Language) and was the night before my Biology mock (further contributing to my then-hysterical levels of panic). Nevertheless, I managed to block out my stress and worry for a few hours to be enchanted by the sixth form, which not only offers all of the A-Levels I want to study (English Lit, Sociology, Media and, evidemment, French) but demonstrated a calmer and quieter atmosphere that I much prefer. 

Instead of standing out for having a so-called 'posh' accent as I do at my current school (which people, even the ones I get on well with, have an habit of reminding me about), all of the girls at the sixth form spoke just as well, which made me realise that perhaps I'm better suited to their sort of environment. They dress smartly, unlike the sixth formers in my present school who consider a tube skirt which barely covers their underwear to be 'appropriate' for learning, and shared an enthusiasm for their studies which has established me as a 'freak' at my current school. Although most of the teachers are extremely willing to help their pupils to reach their potential, I've realised that my personal happiness at my current school is not the best that it can be, and I don't want to look back at my education in ten years' time and wonder why I didn't get a taste of different kind of place when the opportunity was available to me. 

As of this week, my application at the selective sixth has been posted, along with one that I'd sent to a non-selective, but high-performing school in the nearest city; I have no intention of making an application to my school's sixth form, so my academic life is destined to change once more in less than a year's time. After going through the stress of switching schools almost a year ago, am I unhappy at the thought of moving again? To be honest, I'm looking forward to the change. Sixth form only lasts two years and, before I'll even have a spare second to blink my eyelids, I will be walking among the millions of adults in the country, gradually forgetting what it was like to be young and on the cusp of freedom. If I have the choice to make those two years the most academically enriching and personally elated years of my school life, I will seize it with all of my might. Well, there are times for foolishness (like when I nearly stumbled down the stairs after my leg had decided to fall into a state of heavy numbness) - yet decisions as massive as these must be excused from such ignorance! 

On a less serious note, I'm starting to get ready for the upcoming festive season, which I'm getting more excited about as my enthusiasm for cosy jumpers, light-hearted films and chocolate logs grows each day; whatever happens, Christmas is always here, and I cannot wait for the holidays to begin in less than three weeks' time. Hopefully, I'll manage to sort out my Christmas list by the end of this weekend, yet doing so is always hard because my 17th birthday - which just proves how old I'm getting! - is only five weeks afterwards. Still, it will all work out; well, my parents are reminding me to get on with it!

Here's for a peaceful and revision-free (or at least refraction-free) weekend, which I've been dreaming of for more time than I'm actually bothered to count!

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