Paris Stops The Crying

There’s nothing like planning a trip to Paris to stop you from crying uncontrollably.

As any university student (or anyone really) can understand, sometimes there’s just too much to do and not enough time. I know I only have four classes a week and it’s only Creative Writing and I’m lucky enough to be all the way in England so I really shouldn’t be complaining, but I had a small meltdown yesterday. Honestly, I’m not too sure about sharing it publicly because it’s kind of embarrassing, but I figured there had to be someone out there who needs to know they’re not alone.

I’m Happy, but Tired

There’s nothing quite like the euphoria of having handed in all the big assignments and coming out on the other side of the due date victorious. I have no assignments to hand in for weeks and it’s the best feeling ever. Not to mention that I was worried about not finishing on time but I did! Take that, Thomas Edison!

Bad Day

To be honest, I can’t think of what to type right now. This morning I was up early and I curled my hair (before deciding it was hopeless and putting it in a ponytail) and checked my email and got my books ready. It was a beautiful morning and I had leftover mac and cheese for breakfast and worked on my assignment and went to class. I discovered I was in the same class as a bunch of my friends and our teacher was great and the module was going to be exciting. I was prepared to work and be happy and everything.

One Month Later

I have just realized I have surpassed a whole month writing on this blog. That’s longer than I thought I would last. As a result, I’ve decided to revisit my reasons for starting “Precarious Writer”. But still, I have a long way to go. As I said in my first post, I will not have succeeded in keeping a blog unless I’ve done it for more than six months. So we will see…

Could Be Better

Did I say I was getting better? I lied. I’m still sick and I hate it. Oh well. At least my plane is booked now. Instead of freaking out about when I’m going back, I’m freaking out about having zero time to prepare and tie up loose ends. I haven’t finished my room! I haven’t met up with all my friends from high school! I haven’t pet my dog enough times! I’m still freaking sick!

I hate all this not having enough time for everything. I’m one of those people who prefers to take my time and do everything right the first time without increasing stress levels. How are you meant to enjoy what you’re doing when everything’s rushed? Travelling to England should always be a treat, no matter how many times I do it, or how much my ears hurt, or how heavy my luggage is. Right?

Okay. It’s late, I’m sick, and I don’t even remember how I started this post so here’s an ending before I (figuratively) pass out.