A Very Short Week

This holiday is flying by; that's one of the more annoying consequences of getting up at eleven every morning - my day is cut in half from the off. And so I resolve, full of good intentions as usual, to get up early tomorrow. Pah. Unlikely.

Revision is just so, so dull. With every day, the sudden, rather alarming urge to throw myself out of the window increases - yes, the patio may be concrete, but there are no maths practise papers on it. And all the time, I can hear the voice of Miss XXX in my frazzled mind- "only three weeks left" etc. etc. I don't know why the teachers are labouring over this point in such a manner: we know! We know exactly what's going on, thank you very much. Anyway, my art is finished, so that's one less thing to worry about.

Retail therapy is cheering me up a bit, though. On Friday, Ben, Soph and I went to regroup, favouring that nice, old-fashioned shopping-and-horror-film combo. Unfortunately, the film was The Dark, and there were two major factors preventing us enjoying it completely: i) there did not appear to be any sort of plot. At all. And ii) sheep. Sheep. There were dead bloody sheep all over the place. Which, I think you'll agree, isn't that scary. But it was better than working. And Sean Bean has aged well. Oh God, I'm turning into my sister...

Then on Saturday mum and I spent some of dad's hard-earned cash on entirely unnecessary cosmetics, bumping into Lalit, who looked like he had already frozen to death in a pair of squash shorts. Obviously, there wasn't much time for chat in case he dropped dead of hypothermia, but there were some hasty greetings and a "say hi to Uma. Tell her no to Nel".

. . .

This morning I finally watched 'A Very Long Engagement', which was gorgeous. I love everything Jean-Pierre Jeunet does, and Audrey Tatou is so pretty, it's like watching Audrey Hepburn on the screen. And everything was lovingly sepia-toned, bringing back all those memories of summer holidays in France. Until, that is, Sophie called, and she and I spent the next twenty minutes trying to work out stitch settings for Tech. Unfortunately, we concluded that we know nothing and after two years of trying, can't really sew either. Oh well.

Matt is trialling for Essex Academy soon. I am so nervous for him though he, as usual, is cool as a cucumber. I just can't get past the thought that, if he gets in, he has blown other kids from the area out of the water completely. I hope he can do it. I think he can. I don't know. I want him to.

Oh, sweet joy. The curtain has been raised on the Australian tour of Bangladesh and the Banglas - regarded as the worst team in test cricket - have wrapped a hammer in it and are currently pummelling the Aussies into a follow-on. I know it is morally reprehensible to support two teams - England and anyone playing Australia - but gooooo you Banglas!The general consensus amongst me and mine is that Simmo should be there. Except, of course, Uma, but that's purely because she likes Michael Clarke's hair. So that doesn't count.

Push that button, Punter!