I overslept for a half of an hour and did exercises in a rush instead of a jog. Mom boiled some porridge for us and we had breakfast together in the sunny kitchen. During the road through the chip district, my head was light and empty, the same continued when I entered the University without paying any attention to the crowd of young applicants in front of the gym. While the exam passport was given I interacted with a girl who was coming to the English exam too. In spite of her medical background, she seemed boring – who does the cheat sheets before the very exam? We were sitting in the empty auditorium for about fifteen minutes in total boredom. I had managed to notice the leak in the ceiling, construction of the tables (which weren’t tables but the composition of iron balks and countertop), newness and the cheapness of the building. I’d noticed the silly phrases hand written on the table. Twice I was recognized as a teacher.
Then the woman came in and for more ten minutes set the equipment. The papers she gave us were surprisingly familiar. That was the first option on the site I used. Some answers were familiar even before the listening. The critical moment was speaking as I remember that there needed a structural answer but I hadn’t rehearsed any answers at all. I did some mistakes while speaking and heard it. After that boring process, I returned to writing. I rewrote three paragraphs about space. That seemed more or less interesting. After completing all the papers I got out of that cold chip auditorium.
The Institute and this University have in common bad new construction – painted walls and new doors, but they are the same impersonal and cold. You know, organizations built something new because of the pure need, and in this necessity very often makes them neglect aesthetics. After a few years, such building starts being and looking like unpleasant woodshed with broken parts but still able to work on the main purpose. Like an ugly loo.
There is a plenty of things I could reflect on after that exam. The main was the same. “What do I do? I’m not going to be a linguist and work on an employer. ”
Hot weather makes us all feel dizzy and unconscious. It was a great idea to swim at the pool after lunch.
That’s quite strange to go through the whole town to the local university – the same place where I went to the tennis. There are the open market and a few dusty bridges which may us see the ravine with its decrepit houses. Using public transport this way is full of old and grumpy people who haven’t changed for the decades. Everything there stays the same unbearably boring and limited. Sometimes I ask myself how could I live here for twenty years but then remember all my moaning about moving on and everything falls into place.
The application went very well, I gave them my copies and got their good spirit. The application process was going on at the tennis gym. The irony, isn’t it? I wandered there up and down looking at the doors and corridors with the pictures. Strangely enough, but they have the same door signs as VGIK has.
The way back I was kinda sad and furious about this all. I don’t like using backup plans at all. I know that I need to give up my slowness and low self-esteem. Going back home makes me firstly more rigorous about life and secondly, make me give up a highly intensive chase for the dreams. Isn’t it the most stupid thing – being a half of yourself, accepting the least instead of fighting for the most? Being honest with yourself truly require lots of work and perseverance.
From the very beginning this day has been stressful, active and full of things to do. I woke up and went to the drawing room but immediately fell asleep at the sofa. As you can imagine I had caught a last-minute of anylises at the hospital. I’d gone there a quarter to nine and has only chance to be in time with their schedule. The receiptionist quickly send me there and asked to come back afterwards. It was a good idea and I managed to do that all to nine hours. That was so happily sunny and calm. There was a spirit of summer changes.
Mom was a bit scattered scanning my application. Nonetheless I was focused and calm enough to go directly at the destination. I went to the local uni for making the back-up plan real. The acceptance of documents went on at the gym. Those were the bunch of tables with people young and middle aged with laptops, heaps of folders with the inscriptions made with highlighters. There were poorly designed prospectous, lots of blue pens (which I totally don’t use) and some announcements. The walls (I mean that sort of panel which hides the radiaotors) were hung up the names of departments and basic data. At the back table I could observe some water (vitally important today), cups, bags and personal things. That was students who basically took the documents.
The people who stood ahead me were generally little school girls from the province (of province, yes) with moms and accurate folders in hands. One girl couldn’t weigh the pros and the cons of two clear options. Her score was mediocre and no ability to pay for education.
The girl who worked with me was adequate and spoke quietly with me. The plump woman beside her said she worked at the art college but she didn’t remember me. But I remembered her and the boring, degrading way of reading the lectures aloud. She put the standings by the presence of summaries at the notebook. And she was no more than the new half-year long teacher. Well, presently she is working at the university. Can you imagine this? I sadly can. I took the paper and got information. The safety had been quaranteed though this was absolutely not educational and not challenging. You know I would like to get backup at the top uni. It’s a long story.
A few days ago I found out the notes of the days before and during the exams at the college. And the most striking thing was the presence of doubt. I was thinking what to choose narrative or visual arts. I was absolutely sure that it cannot be combined. Fine, but the way is discovered in four and half years. This is the lesson: don’t throw back your desires but look for the solution to realise it.
Then I went to the hospital again for making the rest of the things. That was basically fun because there is no medicine in making the certifitate. I made the impression of silly gigling girl because the absurdity and theatrical made me laugh. That was fun for everyone when at the ENT examination I didn’t hear the request to change ears. At the vaccination the woman listened the pop music by the local radio. The organisator was polite enough and talked with me about the new doors and windows and helped me to finish the process today. The last step was the longest one. We were waiting at the common queue while most of the medical workers left their offices. I observed all the people. There were a singer of the choar, female young worker of the little production, two bold “cool” boys who tryed to jump the queue, the woman in pink vulgar dress with white cellphone. The therapist was calm and said me the same things as the last year. That all seemed me like a big repeat. I got the main signiture the same way at the same corner office at the third floor.
The way home I was eating the chocolate ice-cream as you know making the reference is the stressful thing but this time I managed it for one take.
At the evening me and mom went to the shoe stores and choose one with low heels. Actually I like heels and feel comfortable in average ones.