tomorrow...tomorrowwww...

Results day tomorrow! Though screaming inside, I take comfort that this isn't apparent in my outer countenance. The dithering about, agitated hand-running-through-hair, and abrupt, tense speech aren't giving me away at all...the fact I was up and showered before the crack of dawn, however, may have aroused suspicion from family members as a tell-tale anxiety sign. In fact, I’m more worried now that the nervous energy currently radiating from me will spark some sort of electrical explosion. My mind is so focused on the consequences of this pent-up static charge that tomorrow’s impending results barely feature in the assortment of thoughts flitting ceaselessly through my brain. That’s the brain that I hope regurgitated sufficient information in exams all those weeks ago.
But I’m ok. She says, gasping for breath. Prone though I am to intermittent spasms of realization that this time tomorrow I WILL KNOW, I am (dimly) aware that what THEY (‘they’ being the considerate public) say is true. I know that even if I fail (the very word blaring with vulgar brightness at me) to get into my first-choice university, it’s not ‘the end of the world’. Therefore, while quashing my doubts that I have accidentally tempted fate and in so doing, have prophesized the world’s end, I remind myself it will be FINE. My erratic capitalization assures me that I’m no longer fooling you, either, so I’ll attempt to tame my flustering attitude, and avoid the countless articles luring me over only to enrage me with assertions that “A-levels are getting easier”, “UNIVERSITIES ARE TOO FULL”, and similar reassurances.
I can’t help feeling that an assortment of letters shouldn’t have this torturous effect. And you understand, I say this while edging away from any electrically unstable items. Because there’s nothing to worry about – ‘everyone’ll get A’s anyway’.