Collected Random Thoughts

The week has passed thus:

"Salisbury is in Wiltshire. Wiltshire! Near Cornwall. I'm not going."

Next day: "Nope. I'm going to Salisbury."

And the day after: "Actually. No. I'm definitely not going, it's just too far."

Culminating in: "Right. Fine. I'm going. I don't care. I like the M25."

So we're all going to Salisbury, in the interest of academia.

* * *

Firstly, before launching into a misleading so-much-homework rant, I'd just like to say how much I am loving sixth form. Absolutely. It's fantastic; the classes are exactly what I expected, though better (this is true particularly of Philosophy, because never in my wildest dreams did I think I would be talking about chairness in lessons).

And this is in spite of the fact that several people I know seem to swan about proclaiming their supreme intelligence and wisdom whilst, curiously enough, doing absolutely nothing. Which doesn't interest me at all. I like hard grafters; that's why I've been friends with Ben for the past five years. And Kirstin. Not afraid of some good hard work. It's good for the soul, I say.

As is driving! Because now I can! A bit, at least. Although I must say it has on occasion felt like whizzing to certain death, reversing around mini-roundabouts being my Dad's favourite lesson of all. And it has preoccupied me so much this week that I missed Dragon's Den. I have no idea how it happened. And it was the last in the series...