All of yesterday I was restless. Having had my interview for the study abroad programme last Friday and having been told that I'd be informed of my acceptance or rejection by Wednesday, I was just plain anxious. My futile attempts at concentrating on my Linguistics essay were failing spectacularly and even the internet couldn't distract me from my own fidgeting.
Then at 16:54 when I'd almost given up hope, I got the email. I'd been accepted. I lay back on my bed out of sheer exhaustion. The waiting wasn't over though, as the email had only said I was on the programme and still I had to pick a letter up from administration informing me where I was headed. Today, I scrambled onto the bus to uni, dashed up the hill to Pathfoot building and received my letter...