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The Ever-Looming Present

My past month, while settling back into college life and studying and getting my head round the fact that this is my last year of necessary education – ever, has been filled with one thing. UNIVERSITY.
Ah yes, the word that sends jolts of fear through everyone in education under the age of 18 in most countries across the globe. The dreaded word that means applications, open days, decisions, money, and most importantly, the future.
As this is, indeed, my last year in compulsory education – and I do plan on going to university – the beginning few months of this academic year will be filled with such terrors. (Good thing Halloween is coming up, I’ll just go as a UCAS application…) I have already began my application, put down my choices (though who actually knows if they are the right choices for me. We’ll find out in a few years.) and am currently in the midst of writing my personal statement. By far the worst part of this entrire process. The part that can be make or break. The decider.
For those who do not know, UCAS is the University and Colleges Admission Service, a UK charity that sorts out all your uni stuff, basically. It’s where your applications go, and where you’ll get your offers from, should you get any. And the personal statement is a long-ass piece of writing that all the univeristies you have applied to will look at, and thus decide whether or not you are suitable/good enough/worthy of their education for the next 3 years (on average). And I’ll tell you… it’s bloody terrifying.
And, like the rest of life, it doesn’t slow down at any point. As much as myself and the rest of my peers would love for the world to just calm down, chill for a bit, take a break and have a cuppa, it does not. Because it’s cruel like that. And it just keeps coming at you, like a puppy that wants to play. You know, one of those ones that never gets tired? Yeah.
So if you couldn’t guess, everyone here in the UK (not sure about anywhere else, I don’t live there) under the age of 18 who is looking to get an undergrad degree next year is, in a word, shitting themselves. Excuse my French.
Actually no, at this moment I know a few people that have already recieved offers from their first choice universities. Which is amazing, don’t get me wrong. That’s somethingto be proud of, really. And Lord save the souls of the OxBridge or medical students who have to complete their applications by… well… now. Hats off to them. I, however, am still trying to get my head around how I’m supposed to ask a teacher I’ve never met to write my reference.
I will most likely be doing updates on this sort of process and maybe doing some advice-posts after the process is finished for future applicants. But until then… wish me luck!

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