Tomorrow’s the first day of school, and given I’ve spent the whole holidays destroying my sleep pattern, I should be getting to sleep soon if I want to have any hope of waking up early at all tomorrow.
But it’s not just an ordinary first day of school.
It’s the last first day of school.
No, not because I’m one of those people who think the world will end in a fiery destruction on December the 21st, 2012, but because this is it – this is my last year of school.
The last Summer holidays in which I will spend leaving holiday homework to the last week – despite telling myself that I’ll get it down as soon as possible – are over.
The last time I’ll have to go stationery shopping for school.
The last time I won’t be able to watch the men’s Australian Open final without staying up until an unsightly hour.
I’m a Year 12 now; I’m a big kid now. But I don’t feel like one. It doesn’t seem right; there’s meant to be some people older than us, there always has! How can we suddenly be the oldest in the school? The leaders? The ones people look up to and laugh at for having to sit important exams? How has this happened?
What happened to the days when homework on the weekend didn’t exist? That was only, what, four years ago? It surely doesn’t feel like it.
I don’t feel ready for this year. In just over eleven months, I’ll be finding out my IB score. In less than ten months I’ll have completed my final IB exam.
That’s less than 300 days.
It can’t be right.
Surely we’ve accidentally skipped over a few years in the calendar? It’s not 2012, it can’t be.
But if it is, I guess this is the beginning of the end of the beginning.
The beginning of the end of my schooling life, which is just the beginning of my life as a whole.