Bloody Hell

Well.

I got 11 A*s.

Results Day was most bizarre and, if I'm to be perfectly honest, really quite exciting. Mine were much, much better than I expected. Obviously I wasn't expecting abject failure but, in the words of Richard, WOW! Eleven.

The thing is, though, that everybody seems to know. And this has put me in some rather embarassing situations, frankly. Particularly at work; on a till no one can hear you scream (or cares if you do). Nor can you run away. So. Last weekend everything was going swimmingly; I was scanning loaves of bread, hot chickens and the like, bleep-bleep-bleeping left, right and centre, when I was accosted by Jamie who, seriously, was practically yelling:

"Aahhh! Robyn! Congratulations! Amazing, amazing!". At which someone chipped in, "Better grades than Hermione! Out of Harry Potter".

"Yes. I heard about your grades," chipped in Adam, at which I muttered "shhhh, shhhh", as if he was announcing I was a cross-dresser. "And what do you want to do?" he continued, "with your life? After Sixth Form."

Naturally, everyone had now stopped pretending I was a mere checkout girl. Oh Christ. I explained briefly my aspirations of journalism, stopping abruptly and thinking "Am I worthy, then?". Adam is a History graduate, so has the approach of a young (though admittedly very tall and quite attractive) Jeremy Paxman. Thank God it was busy.

Anyway. I'm over it now.

Yesterday I went shopping with Sophie, the main objective of which was to buy Kirstin a birthday present, which I did, though only after zipping Soph into various tiny corsets, critiquing her bottom in progressively tighter jeans and persuading her that new boots were, in fact, a more important purchase than a Rampant Rabbit or a naughty nurse outfit from Ann Summers.

"She's a lovely girl," said my mother as I recounted this later, "but she is a bit sex-obsessed, don't you think?"

As if I even needed to answer that.

'Tis a mere month (ish) until my birthday, and already my friends have started the cycle of "But-what-do-you-want?" - as if I know. My time is too consumed with French idioms and the concept of crashing a car on my very first driving lesson. I am sure - sure - that I will turn out to be incompetent.

Sixth Form soon...