[sings] Memory, all alone in the moonlight…

I love the ‘On This Day’ feature on Facebook. There are so many memories that would be consigned to time and history, mothballed, stashed in the memory attic and never revisited, if not for Facebook.

Like, every year on my birthday, Facebook brings up a photo of my brother wearing my pink bobble hat, with his trousers pulled up to his nipples and tucked into his socks, and it’s NEVER NOT FUNNY. It’s also always a lovely birthday treat, because I forget about it throughout the year until my birthday rolls around and then…boom! The photo reappears and delights me again.

Today’s memory on Facebook was a lovely one that served both to remind me HOW OLD I AM, but also what a day it was.

Ah, happy times. And you know what? I remember that day so well.

The exam took place in the sports centre – which seems like a very British thing? Maybe it’s not – I don’t suppose many countries/schools maintain a massive hall for the exclusive use of exams with a separate one for sports, and I don’t think you end up with any fewer invigilators when you put all the students in a big hall instead of in classrooms, since you still need to watch the tricksy little shits for cheating just as closely. Perhaps it’s just really British to do exams?

Anyway, the sports hall – massive, draughty, painted that violent white that assaults your eyeballs – was filled with row upon row of ancient desks and creaky chairs, and I sat in the middle of a row in the middle of a hall and completed a three hour paper on the synoptic module. Apparently, this was a module that drew together every skill we’d studied on the course, but since it was exactly the same type of question as every other exam we’d had…who knows? After we finished, I went to the student bar round the corner from the sports/exam hall and got riproaringly drunk.

It were lovely.

All my uni friends were there and we all swore blind we’d never lose touch (ha) and we’d be friends forever (haha). Which really just proves no-one should never ask me to promise anything when I’m three sheets to the wind drunk, because I swear I’d unfriended most of them by the time I got home from the bar.

I am nothing if not honest with my feelings.

Anyway, twelve years later, and I’ve decided to celebrate this auspicious anniversary by cracking open a can of cold gin and tonic and looking them all up on Facebook.

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