A primordial scream, of the sort people utter when about to look at potentially scary things, for which parental support is deemed necessary. You know, the scream that goes 'Maaaaaaaaaa.' Yeah, that one.
Parental support proved fairly essential, because I realised soon enough that my name was not on the list. Or on the waiting list. So I was saddened but resigned--I hadn't thought I'd written a good exam, anyway, as everyone I whined at can attest.
Of course, then my mother fulfilled her true purpose as my mother, and pointed out the fact that I had--as bloody usual--been looking in the wrong place; at the wrong list, in this case. Yeah, I know. No, I don't know how I'm going to survive on my own either, thank you for your absolute faith in me. It's touching. Bitch.
But I guess I'll find out, soon enough (tick-tock). The M.A. list, the 'real' list, as it were, the one I was supposed to be looking at (thank you, Mommy, I love you), says I'm headed off to E.F.L.U in a bit less than a month. So, um.
Here goes?
