Hello, hello, how is everybody doing.
I am doing fine, apart from the fact that I feel very full and tired – I got up early to help at a family members birthday gathering and I stuffed myself with food after the 4 hours I spent washing up mountains of dirty crockery. It was nice though, my grandma paid me and I totally wasn’t expecting to get any reward.
I wanted to do a blog post because I had previously written one earlier this week only to find that the wifi was playing up and that I deleted the draft by accident. Long story short, I don’t know where it is.
What has happened since the last time we talked? Oh yes, the monumental moment of me officially finishing my exams and first year of university. I am so relieved to not have revision hanging over me, I can finally lie in and lounge around without the constant guilt of relaxing instead of being productive. I did write a lot about my final exam on my deleted post and how some inconsiderate house mates made sure I had a full TWO HOURS of sleep the night before my most important test. But hey ho, I concluded that it wasn’t the most interesting of topics.
I really wanted to write something on Friday evening because I felt a bit funny. I had been invited to a barbecue at my old school/house (basically when I was 7-14 I lived on the campus of a private school) to celebrate and say goodbye to 2 members of staff who I had also lived and worked on campus for more than 20 years. While I had been back to the school on occasions, sitting in my old garden with some of my old teachers and neighbours and listening to funny old stories about burning dormitories and escaped pets -(back in the day when health and safety wasn’t a thing)- made me feel a sense of nostalgia. But it wasn’t happy. I felt sad. Living there and studying there created such a sense of community. And although I didn’t appreciate it at the time, looking back on what I once had made me feel a sense of loss in the present. And a slight jealousy of the current kids who are in the same position that I was once in as a young girl. I don’t know if you are understanding what I am trying to get across or what my situation was, but I don’t want to explain in that much depth. But yeah….that’s what I felt sad about. Or not sad. Just a funny feeling.
I’m trying to find a job at the moment. As much as I want to use my free time to relax, my parents are working and my sister is at school for the next 7 weeks. So, me being by myself in the house isn’t a great idea…alone with my tormented and disturbed soul, I mean. I feel better when I get out, and also: MONEY. Student in desperate need. Send help. I also need to do some academic work sometime…Imagine if I completely forgot the language that I had learnt from scratch this year. That’s the problem with languages, it’s not like you can finish a topic and put it to one side, it’s constant revision and repetition and UGH why did I choose this degree.
The time is 23:50. I played sims 3 university tonight and watched the Manchester music concert hosted by Ariana Grande. Terrible news in London now. 😦 I don’t want to talk about it too much though. Not trying to be disrespectful, I just would prefer to keep on going and not get dragged down like they want us to be. I just want to say that I feel so bloody angry with the media, though. This is just my opinion, but watching BBC news tonight, it was like they were romanticising the whole event for the terrorists: multiple eye witnesses explaining their fear and experiences in depth – some even appearing excited instead of horrified, reporters using stupid metaphors and similes to make the journalism sound dramatic rather than reflect the tragedy. All these things give the extremists more satisfaction from their actions. Sure, people lost their lives and that is a really tragic thing and I feel desperately sad about the current situation of the world. But over reporting doesn’t help. People want to know all the details, I get it. But can they just report without buttering up the attackers, making them feel great evil things they have done through their choice of words. I know it’s not purposeful and obviously they are just trying to get across the terrifying and awful atmosphere that was and is present, but I just get the feeling that by emphasising the “people who just wanted to have fun and relax with their families on a night off” just makes it more of an achievement for the extremists. Why can’t they just describe them as “people who were walking / eating out in London”. Does anyone else get what I mean? Maybe it’s just me looking to far into it.
I said that I wasn’t going to talk about it a lot, damn it.
I’ve got an appointment on Wednesday. Hopefully my brain can start its jouney to recovery and that I can also get this mess of diagnosis’ sorted out. I’ll explain one day. But for now, I’m going to try and get some sleep. And not delete it this time.
This feels like an abrupt ending. But I’m too tired to sort it out. Hope you all have good weeks.