Where Emma ponders running away to the jungle
Well, my dears, not only has January been several years long, but we have the wild ride of university applications, mind-changing acrobatics, and the love/hate dance teens inflict on us parents. Navigating through the academic circus isn't exactly a walk in the park - more like “tramp through crocodile-infested jungles? Hell yeah.”
Deciding which university to apply to or career to pick is a minefield. One day the buggers are dead set on becoming a marine biologist because dolphins are cool, and the next day they are convinced that the world desperately needs more interpretive dancers. Meanwhile, as parents, we are trying to keep up with the ever-changing career aspirations. I have reached the stage of please for the love of everything holy…Pick. A. Course. ANY. Bloody. Course!
The love/hate relationship during this chaotic period is worthy of its own Netflix series. One moment they're your pride and joy, the next I’m thinking of investing in a soundproof bunker. It’s either "I love you, mum " or "Why won't you just let me live my life?!"
And let's not forget the university applications themselves – a process that makes you question your life choices more than a game of Truth or Dare after a few shots. It's like choosing between Hogwarts and Mordor without a magical sorting hat.
So that’s been fun!
As a result, I haven’t had a moment spare to write a decent letter this week. But with the above stress insert Parkinson’s at any point you imagine it popped up to say hi.
P.S. Someone asked about a donation of wine to my frazzled self…if you don’t want to subscribe but want to support me you can! I’ll be terribly grateful 😘