And many more...
I started writing this blog when I was about fourteen years and three months old.
*blinks a little*
I wish I could have looked forward and marvelled about the years afterwards. So much seems to have changed, yet if you look back, most has remained the same. I'm still at school. Still good at the same things, bad at the same things. I'm just that bit more mature and have a more realistic and practical view on the world.
My provisional driving license has arrived, and soon I'll be getting lessons, so if you hear about a car pile-up on the M5 caused by someone with an L plate, that may be me. The whole thing is freaking me out slightly, but it's another step on the road to adulthood. Dad's been looking forward to this for years; I'll finally be able to give him and his best friend a lift home from their annual piss-up at the Postlip Beer Festival. I told him he shouldn't get his hopes up for this year. July 2009, perhaps. God, by that time I will have left school! This is all piling on, people.
(And I am exceedingly thankful that my birthday will never be on Easter Sunday again; nowhere is open, all my friends are with their families, and none of the banks are open until Tuesday. It's probably just as well I'm not part of a religious family; it must be very odd sharing a birthday with the supposed rebirth of Jesus.)
(And is it wrong, blasphemous, and disrespectful that I keep referring to him as "Jeebus" in ordinary conversation? Hmm.)
Anyway, there is chocolate that needs to be eaten, driving documents to be stored and films that need to be watched. God speed, people!
Seventeen-year-old Rosby out. In a car, soon. Watch this space.