One day more.

Today is the day before I will find out officially what I will be doing next year. It is quite exiting to look at all my classmates as they eagerly await what will happen next. We all have grand aspirations to be this or that but this is when we find out what will be, at least for next year.

As with any potentially life altering information people have different reactions to it. I have chosen not to think about it, though it creeps up in my dreams in which I never get what I want. Others get a kick about telling others how they were able to find out the results of the match early by whatever means, inevitably getting a rise out of someone who is not expecting the joke.

I, Alas, am in a situation that is not to be envied. For even now I am not sure that Pathology is what I really want to do. Though I am sure of many things that I don't want to do. In the event that I get pathology I will be exited and relish in the opportunity. In any other endeavour I will have a degree of skepticism over the result.

So it is one day more. For those of my fans who indulge themselves in these words I wish you the best. Give me a call tomorrow and I will be delighted, or perhaps not, to tell you what I will be doing next year. You in turn can celebrate or mourn with me. I am told that the day of match brings unremitting happiness to some and deep dejection to others. So it is with life.

Tomorrow is Christmas in the match. So I leave you with little prose:

Tomorrow is another day just like all the others,
The sun will rise, the stars will fall
Rain will come and the wind will blow.
The tides on distant shores will rise and fall:
Someone will die and another someone will live.
Tomorrow is just another day.
Just live it better then all the others.