Though I'm not sure more time is really what I need. No matter how long I have left until I go to France, it could be 3 days or a year, I would still never feel ready for it. Brain seems to enjoy pretending I'm not going and then the day before I go, I'm likely to suffer some sort of panic attack.
I'm physically ready (sort of, I still need to actually hear from the woman who has kindly given me a home), but mentally I don't think I'm quite there yet.
Perhaps I'll just turn up to France like this little fellow;
Replace "bear" with "poor, lost English girl".
Between now and 26th September, I still have a long way to go. Piles of photocopying, feeling 'busy and important' doing several silly little errands. I even got myself a credit card* (squeal).
More seriously, it's that time of year again. September is amongst my least favourite months. Summer is fading and people move on, move away. And time seems to have just evaporated. I wonder where these past 2 years have gone. It seems only yesterday that I was packing all my stuff up, ready to take on Nottingham as a fresh faced first year. And God, was I young. You do a hell of a lot of growing up when university hits you like an anvil on the head.
Would I do anything differently? Perhaps. I'm still not sure that university is right for me. Or even studying languages. But now I'm here and I will see it out to the bitter end.
* Only for use in the following situations; spontaneous laptop explosions, sudden need for French pastries + no money and hostage.
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