THIS week is the final countdown — it is two days until results day.

It’s nearly here and I’m getting pretty nervous.

I suppose it doesn’t help that every morning my mum greets me with “ooh, it’s only (however many) days now!”, followed by an anxious, scrunched up face because she knows if I don’t get the grades I need, she’ll have one very grumpy daughter to deal with.

I don’t like to get my hopes up on things too much, but I have my heart set on my firm choice and if I have to go to my insurance, I will feel very disappointed.

On a lighter note, I have spent this week recovering from last weekend and preparing for the weekend to come.

It appears that my perpetually stagnant social life has picked up for the last six weeks before I leave, which is very exciting considering I usually spend my Saturday nights watching dodgy TV with a mouth full of popcorn, letting out the occasional sigh to show my disapproval.

I’ve spend much of this week sleeping, doing exercise on my game console or working.

Sleep is becoming ever more present in my life in the lead up to me becoming an official university student.

Maybe my body is preparing me for those nights out until 6am and lie-ins until 3pm.

To be honest, I’ve never been the kind of person to do that anyway.

By 3.30am, after a night out of partying, I’m slyly edging towards a takeaway with the view of getting a BBQ chicken pizza and a taxi home.

I’m keeping myself very busy in order to stay distracted from the feeling of impending doom that keeps washing over me every so often.

At the weekend I volunteered for Bolton Hospice which was fun; it always makes me happy to see such amazing people, as well as going out on Friday and Saturday night with the girls.

After that, I will be working every day until results are released, so hopefully I’ll wake up with a clear mind on Thursday morning ready to do a full victory lap around my house.

Wish me luck!