Another very untidy room

At some point on the 11th of April, in just a few days, I'm going to realise that my Higher exams, those same Higher exams which I have been repeatedly and reliably informed by teachers will influence my university choices, my possible careers and very probably the rest of my life, are one month away. Right now, I should probably be worried, but it seems like a month and a few days is a very long time. Not long ago, a year was a very long time and in a few days, the month will seem like a very long time and so on until I reach the time frame, maybe a fortnight, where every thing seems like a very short time.

I'm tempted to call this “the calm before the storm” but, given that this first week of the holidays is simply a short reprieve between the warnings of wisdom of teachers and the worries of parents, “the eye of the storm” seems far more apt.

I really ought to be worried, I really, really should. My stomach ought to be filled with butterflies every time I twist my neck and glance at the stack of textbooks and sample papers on my floor. All common wisdom, if not common sense, tells me that I should have some kind of plan for what to study and a very definite where in which to study. Those older and more experienced than myself tell me I should be doing all of the above, along with much, much more when my thoughts turn from April to May.

But I'm not worried. Any butterflies are being quite thoroughly digested. Common wisdom goes ignored, as common sense dictates it very often should. Next week goes unplanned and the week after that is irrelevant. The older and more experienced people I talk to are, perhaps unfairly, ignored as my thoughts stay firmly grounded in April; in now.

I'm not entirely sure what those thoughts are. Imagine my head like a room, full of people. In the middle of the room, talking and having fun, are all my normal thoughts. Those day to day thoughts about what I want to eat, what video games I want to play, what's on TV. They're all in the centre of the action.

At the back of the room, locked in a conveniently placed cage, are thoughts about exams and university and so on and so forth. School related thoughts. I know they're plotting something, but I don't know when they'll strike.

Occasionally, one of the smaller revision thoughts will sneak out and get part of a practice paper done before being squashed by my ego, who then returns to leaning against the wall absent-mindedly swinging a set of keys around his finger while giving everyone the uneasy sense that he's in charge in this room.

Creeping around outside the room, poking his head almost invisibly over the windowsill, is a suspicion that the normal thoughts and the hard-working, exam thoughts should really be in opposite positions and that if the my ego doesn't use those keys very soon, he'll find himself severely damaged.

So that's my mind as it stands right now.

Oh, and the part of my mind that can't stand overcomplicated wordplay is banging its head against a metaphysical wall because of that “sneaking suspicion” bit two paragraphs up.