...everyone (it seems) is talking about halls of residence, passport-sized photos, UCAS, and of course the delights of trying to get through to Student Finance (I recommend drinking alcohol before even trying).
If you combine the two households of my lovely friend Jenny and I, six of us are going to be starting university. That's a lot of stress for two households. When I popped round Jenny's yesterday, she was outside her house beside the porch, in a crouching position. My first thought was that she was hiding, and perhaps out of politeness I should pretend I hadn't seen her. My second thought was that she was having a nervous breakdown. I adopted my "concerned-yet -calm" face. On closer inspection I discovered she was searching through her recycling bin. She was looking for her son's university enrolment letter. It heartened me to learn that someone I have for years felt a failure beside because of her organisational skills actually uses the same filing sytem as me - putting very important documents in the recycling bin. Unopened.
What's with the scooter? I'm glad you asked. I'm scooting off on "holiday" this weekend. I'm going camping with a big group of lovelies. That's right, actual camping - sleeping with merely a thin piece of fabric between me and the outside world. I don't have high hopes.
