I was walking to maths today, and was hit by a bolt of perspective. I only have a year and a day until I'm 18. I find it somewhat worrying, because I haven't done nearly as much stuff as I would have liked to by now. Not that my life is dull, but I imagined myself as having done a lot more at this age. At least I'm taller than my Dad... and have an awesome girlfriend... on second thought, scratch the worrying. I am almost perfectly content.