Tomorrow's the big day

I've just been putting my new pens in my pencil case and choosing which of the 17 new notebooks I should put in my satchel for my first day back at big school. Feels a bit strange I have to say. I'm now trying to work out what to wear.

It's been a while since I was at University. It kind of brought it home to me at the enrolment day at the Guildhall on Saturday. I kept bumping into mums of new students, waiting in the long, hideously sweaty queue to get our papers stamped, and they didn't look a great deal older than me. A slow dawning of realisation then permeated my very young looking body. I was actually 20 years older than some of the enrolling students who had just done their A levels. Eek! My fellow postgraduates should at least have done their first degree so I'll be at most a mere 17 years older than them. A trifling nothing. I must look up the word trifle. How can it mean both a mere nothing and a sumptuously gorgeous yummy afters? For those of you who haven't travelled north of the Midlands, afters is what we call dessert/pudding - albeit something that only usually appears with guests. Interestingly the US spellcheck on this blogger is encouraging me to replace it with 'aftershave'. They've obviously not been to St. Helens either.

I'm leaning towards my very best new Fat Face sweat shirt, which I'm convinced makes me look extremely cool, and a pair of Pumas. Can't go wrong. I really ought to go to bed. I'll just check my bag one more time...

Rx