I have once again got to the stage of opening the blank word document and being filled with complete and utter dread. Why is the blank page just so threatening? I feel that I have to condense my entire being into a limited number of characters and be judged upon how well I have advanced in life.
At the tender age of 18 who am I at all? If mother Theresa was applying for university I wonder what she would write about... Emma Watson is but a single year older than me and she's a beautiful little millionaire witch. With the brains of Einstein and a face comparable to Doris Day during the Calamity Jane phase what in the world did she choose to write about first?! I hope she made some lovely little remark about Hogwarts obviously being her first choice.
I have cats that I have to force apart because they throw themselves at each other at every opportunity which leads into some whirling cat fight of scratching, squawking and biting. And then an uncontrollable need to control my life. Being an 18 year old girl having a gap year has turned out to be somewhat stressful. Where is the university sorting hat when you need it?
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