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1. Leave home convinced will do lots of work on train, indeed, yes, hence put lots of books and files in bag. Spend journey doing Grauniad crossword instead, and arrive in Oxford having done no work whatsoever.
2. Walk through city in glorious spring weather, past tourists and field trips and open days, arrive in flat to discover flatmates cooking something that smells delightful, resolve to revise after dinner.
3. Dinner is delightful, is accompanied by all flatmates save one wanting to hear about New York, wanting to tell you about what they did on their holidays. (In brief: working in archives, moping, going out, travelling India, almost getting married for academic purposes, utterly failing to revise for collections.)
4. After dinner, pick up books, venture forth to Social Sciences Library. Forced to venture back again upon discovery of last flatmate, newly arrived and in need of help carrying extensive and bizarre quantities of stuff inside. (Featuring, among other things: full-length mirror, orange refrigerator and several sticks of bamboo.)
5. Make it to Social Science Library. Sit there forc an hour, getting steadily more sleepy and unproductive; when bell rings, go home convinced that will get early night and revise in the morning.
6. Despite going to bed utterly exhausted, stay awake. Fall asleep, cranky and miserable, at ridiculous o'clock in the morning and fail to wake up before lunchtime.
7. Realise have a) no food and b) no idea when collections actually are. Venture forth to college, print out stuff to revise from, go to Sainsbury's, buy food, return home, discover have forgotten a) milk and bread and b) to check when collections are.
8. Groan.
9. Return grumpily to town to achieve these honestly quite simple tasks.
10. Fetch books and papers and wander barefoot across the Master's Field, to generally-agreed-upon claimed spot at the far corner, next to the wall with the climbing flowers. Stretch out in sunshine and the quiet, listen to birds singing, open books. Work for two hours, breaking occasionally to sort out philosophical tangle in head, whilst all the while unconsciously noticing the cricketers on the far side, knocking balls skywards with gentle thonk noises, the tennis players, the groundsman playing with his dog, the few picnickers, the flowers, the huge expanse of green. Roll over in the warmth below great cloudless dome of sky, and relaaaaax.
Thus, I have given up. No more work. Am feeling a bit swamped at present, because I have a ridiculous amount of things to do, and far too little time to do them in. For my own reference:
( to do )
And, also: are OULES auditions soon, or am I mistaken? Because I am crazy and want to be involved this time round, y'see. Somebody please advise.
Ohgod collections. Sleeeeep.
2. Walk through city in glorious spring weather, past tourists and field trips and open days, arrive in flat to discover flatmates cooking something that smells delightful, resolve to revise after dinner.
3. Dinner is delightful, is accompanied by all flatmates save one wanting to hear about New York, wanting to tell you about what they did on their holidays. (In brief: working in archives, moping, going out, travelling India, almost getting married for academic purposes, utterly failing to revise for collections.)
4. After dinner, pick up books, venture forth to Social Sciences Library. Forced to venture back again upon discovery of last flatmate, newly arrived and in need of help carrying extensive and bizarre quantities of stuff inside. (Featuring, among other things: full-length mirror, orange refrigerator and several sticks of bamboo.)
5. Make it to Social Science Library. Sit there forc an hour, getting steadily more sleepy and unproductive; when bell rings, go home convinced that will get early night and revise in the morning.
6. Despite going to bed utterly exhausted, stay awake. Fall asleep, cranky and miserable, at ridiculous o'clock in the morning and fail to wake up before lunchtime.
7. Realise have a) no food and b) no idea when collections actually are. Venture forth to college, print out stuff to revise from, go to Sainsbury's, buy food, return home, discover have forgotten a) milk and bread and b) to check when collections are.
8. Groan.
9. Return grumpily to town to achieve these honestly quite simple tasks.
10. Fetch books and papers and wander barefoot across the Master's Field, to generally-agreed-upon claimed spot at the far corner, next to the wall with the climbing flowers. Stretch out in sunshine and the quiet, listen to birds singing, open books. Work for two hours, breaking occasionally to sort out philosophical tangle in head, whilst all the while unconsciously noticing the cricketers on the far side, knocking balls skywards with gentle thonk noises, the tennis players, the groundsman playing with his dog, the few picnickers, the flowers, the huge expanse of green. Roll over in the warmth below great cloudless dome of sky, and relaaaaax.
Thus, I have given up. No more work. Am feeling a bit swamped at present, because I have a ridiculous amount of things to do, and far too little time to do them in. For my own reference:
( to do )
And, also: are OULES auditions soon, or am I mistaken? Because I am crazy and want to be involved this time round, y'see. Somebody please advise.
Ohgod collections. Sleeeeep.
