I have been diagnosed today.
A case of ‘Euphoria’, the doctor said,
It is not normal to feel this way.
I said ‘good morning’ with such cheer,
A symptom; met by a scowl
And a muttered ‘Oh dear’.
‘Do your lips often curl upward?’
A ‘yes’ shone from the crescent moon of
My medallion mouth.
From the other end
Of the room the doctor stood.
Troubled. ‘I’m afraid to say,
It’s not looking good.’
As a British citizen, modesty has become almost a second language to me. Here, if you even find yourself wanting to share the news of your pet squirrel’s second place in a grooming competition, you will be labelled a snob and have your name removed from every scone-party guest list accordingly.
Well, it’s something like that.
This has proven to be a real issue lately as I am taking just another step into adulthood via the creation of my personal statement.
Basically a C.V., the personal statement is every egotist’s paradise as you’re expected to write around 500 words that should somehow convince another human being of your excellence.
This is the time when occasionally walking your grandma’s dog becomes ‘volunteering for the elderly’ and playing a game of cricket for your school when you were 12 becomes ‘having an active role in the school’s sports team’.
But just as I thought I was running out of things to write myself, I just happened to stumble upon this beauty…
… looks like I’ll be bouncing my way to university!