Thursday, May 20, 2004


Well, I've been gone a total of 19 days, and I get back, and everything's changed. And I don't know where I am. I know where I've been, but I don't know how that led me here. And... well, I don't know.

I finally got my Cherrystones album today. It is great. It makes me smile. I look at the CD cover, and I think I'm in love. I listen to the music. And I... think I'm in love? Ok. Limited response maybe. But, I do love it. It's great distraction from my final essay of this semester! YAY!

Talking of essays, I think I'm getting fed up of them. I've done three in the last two weeks, and this fourth one, while not difficult, is inconvenient. It is stopping me from playing on the PS2, from reading, watching DVDS - my life basically. I shouldn't moan, because I chose to be a literature student, but then, if I wasn't moaning, there would be no challenge, and life would be oh-so-boring. But still, I wish the challenge wasn't so... challenging? (Guess my vocabulary is as limited as my critical appreciation of music).

Anyway... back to this last essay. Word count is 1000. Now, this sounds good in theory. It means it's more than half the work of the three previous essays. WRONG! I have a word count of 925 words, and I'm nowhere near getting to where I want to be. I'm thinking I might have to read Middlemarch a little more thorougly, and find one passage that will cover everything I need to write about... but how, goddamnit!? How can I do that with minimal effort!? I can't. Which means that the whole thing is prolonged - more so by my moaning, and hence, blogging about it, and still, the word count is 925.

However, on Tuesday, once it's done and dusted. I have all the time of the world to myself. At least until the following Wednesday when mother picks me up. Because, if I'm going back on the Wednesday, I guess I can start work on the Thursday - more money after all - but then, I'd quite like to be slacking, and not work until the Monday. Decisions, decisions... I guess I'll end up doing whatever mother tells me to do. That usually seems to be the way, unless I can get away with not doing what she tells me to do, without her knowing that I'm not (doing what she's told me to do, that is).


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