I Somehow Survived those Essay Deadlines...

And so I emerge...

"My brain had turned to mush"

Any Facebook friends or twitter followers will probably have picked up on the fact that my life for the past week has consisted purely of late night library trips and sitting in the relative warmth of my bed with all manner of useless notes spread around me, trying to get my essays written. I did take a well-earned break over the weekend to unclog the shower drain. It says a lot that this was somewhat of a highlight.

One night Kirsty and I had a drink and my mind was so caught up with 'the spaces in-between identity positions within postmodernist texts' (yes, Beacon, I know it's a "hippie degree"), that I ended up drunkenly insisting that Sophie had 'exposed too much of her inner self to the world'. I don't even know what that means. But by that point my brain had turned to mush. And for some reason whenever I've had a drink I feel the need to give Sophie some deep, meaningful life advice.

And finally, now that 5,000 words have been submitted, 28 pages of notes have been thrown in the bin, and I've fully recovered from the leg cramp I sustained yesterday after sitting in the same position for 3 hours straight, I am now back home in Wales and ready to welcome in the Christmas spirit.

"...there's a gaping hole
in the wall"

It isn't exactly the most festive of places here right now. My parents are midway through remodeling the downstairs of their house and there's a gaping hole in the wall. But we have the fire on to compensate for the draft and I guess that's somewhat merry. Anyway, compared to the cave of a room if lived in while I was writing my essay, it's practically the Raddison Blu all over again. For the last week there were mugs with the remnants of cup-a-soup, dirty socks, and discarded library books scattered all over my bedroom! Neither my face nor my life are particularly attractive when deadlines are lurking.

Having not left the house in the last week, I don't have any anecdotes to share as such. I just thought I'd check in to say have no fear, I'm still alive. The 3am readings of Bleak House did not kill me or force me any further into insanity than I was to begin with.