Day #335

There is only one man who can sum up how I feel right now, Jon Gomm. 

Good evening, today was definitely the best day...since the last time I said it. 

Today was also results day. I woke up and I just wanted to get it over with. I marched in, took the envelope, signed my name and after being told, "you must look at your results and sign in with a teacher," I walked out, purely because my mum was waiting in the car and if they were awful results I would throw the letter at her and say, "sort them out please!" 

I opened the letter and scanned the table with letters and modules and subjects and my mind went blank.

There are no B's or higher, all fails! 

No No No!...

As I began to panic, I spotted them. I was reading my module grades - which were not great - but I had managed to pull it back in the actual exams. 1 A, 5 Bs, 4 Cs! 

I was back in for sixth form. 

They are not great results but I was glad the pressure was off and it was all over. 

I took my guitar to the repair shop and we have band practice. I then watched one of the most violent films ever with Laura who, by this time, has coloured my very old and decrepit guitar red. I am also writing quotes on it which I think are quite good. 

Once I'd walked Laura back to her nan's, with whom I had a lovely chat, and headed back (I'm not sure why I walked Laura home, if somebody tried to attack us then Laura could handle herself alot better than I could any day!), I sit down for dinner after my family has already eaten and suddenly my dad walks over to a cupboard. He brings down a big box and what is it? A frigging new camera!

It's the Nikon D5100, exactly the one I wanted. Safe to say I have the best parents ever! 

He said he would get me a new camera if I got into sixth form and he stuck to his word. Thank you, Dad! 

After sticking my camera on charge, my brother and I hit the tennis courts. We were playing next to a proper sports guy. You know the ones. The "I wasn't quite good enough to play professionally but I am always on the tennis courts talking as if I know stuff and being over competitive" players. The man next to us was telling his friend that he loves the way they had restrung his racket because the sweet spot was in the right place. The perfect place... Well my friend, I will restring your racket. I will restring it round your head in a minute, then who will look like a "Sweet spot"? You. Actually, you will just look like a repressed sportsman with a tennis racket rapped round your silly over-competitive self.

Until tomorrow

Will :)