Quick Post: The 3-Day Countdown

Just in case you were beginning to assume that I'd firmly ventured back into the wilderness that is better recognised in society as adolescent life and had therefore turned my back on blogging duties for the present time, I've somehow been lured back to this all-too-familiar site as I await the arrival of Thursday. Not quite sure what this Thursday represents, asides from pizza being served for dinner (as it appears to be the case in my household)? Only just scrolling through student forums at a Usain Bolt-inspired speed would instantly tell you that Thursday will confirm what many teenagers like myself have both been dreading and looking forward to (albeit not in the 'I-can't-wait-to-go-to-Disneyland' kind of way) for months: GCSE Results Day.

Ugh, the horror of opening what will be the most important envelope that you will ever come across in your life (until the even more dreaded AS Level results are received the following year - after Thursday, I'll have the not-so-delightful honour of attending another two Results Days) in a room crowded with equally terrified individuals catalyses such panic within myself, which is clearly not helping my sleeping patterns. As embarrassing as it sounds to those who suffered the Result Day woes long ago and probably cannot even remember what grades they achieved (such a possibility seems absolutely impossible to me right now - long will I anticipate the day that my Physics grade will slip out of my mind like an important, yet uncompleted chore), I've pretty much spent the past three or four nights lying in my bed, panicking over which grades will greet me or slap my horrified cheek on Thursday morning.

Such torture of this kind isn't even fair - the first half an hour or so of going to bed should involve my reviewing the scenarios that have taken place in the programmes I've been watching on Netflix then, in true fantasy style, place myself in those situations for my own past-bedtime entertainment. Believe me, fantasising over being situated in the same city as Mitchell from Being Human would be plenty enough to soothe me of any pre-envelope opening nerves (because, like a true worrier, I am concerned over whether I'll easily open my envelope or will require some assistance like a three year old asking their dad to tie their shoelaces up - a.k.a. my 17 year old self!), yet my stupid exam results have deprived me of such a luxury...

In a strange way, I suppose that a sense of calmness has finally descended upon me from today onwards because, at long last, I can finally utter the words 'this week' when discussing Results Day (RD) without fear of deluding myself. As a result, such dreams of being placed in hibernation until Thursday morning are slowly beginning to subside, which probably come as a huge relief to my precious cat, Bart, who has reigned supreme on my bed all summer - any time in which he has been barred from resting on my bed has been utterly devastating for his oh-so-poor self, hence why my hibernating this week would have deprived him of yet another sleeping spot! Also, the grade boundaries for the exams I sat will be released by all but one of the exam boards on Wednesday midnight which, if my maths skills have not yet completely died, is only thirty-six hours away; at least knowing the number of marks I will need to achieve various grades will distract me from my ever-growing pile of nerves on Wednesday, which will be more than ready to explode by the time that Thursday morning rolls around.

Honestly, I can speak for all expectant teens that the summer-long Waiting Game has been absolutely tedious - and way too long than anyone can reasonably tolerate! If people are of the knowing sort who can accurately predict what grades they will get, I would imagine that they wouldn't be too worried with regard to waiting an entire summer to discover their results, yet I constantly and repeat doubt myself because I really don't know what my personally-addressed envelope will contain. Such uncertainty - in addition to my unconfident attitude because, in my opinion, cockiness can backfire big time if grade boundaries or harsh examiners play any role in determining your future (and who is to know who will be marking your paper?) - only increases my worries because, until I finally find out my results on Thursday, I won't be able to take a deep breath and relax.

OK, that isn't to say that I've been completely depriving myself of a break this summer - otherwise, what would be the point of working hard during the exam period to only greet myself with yet more work? - but there is only so much 'relaxation' that I can do without turning my attention towards exam results. Additionally, being in scarce possession of patience has not helped me at all either and, now that I'm closer than ever to receiving my results, praying for the sake of developing a yet-to-be-discovered patient streak in my nature seems rather pointless!

Nevertheless, I will probably find myself praying that Netflix will list an addictive show that I can rapidly sink my teeth into (as was the case with discovering Being Human last week - suddenly, the idea of developing so much body hair as a werewolf seemed far scarier than getting a D in my Maths GCSE) as I start to count down the hours towards Thursday morning. Sod it, I'll leave it to Google to calculate the hours because my frazzled little head will be way too stressed to figure it out independently!