Perpetually Petrified

Today, I have felt like a failure.

I'm so near the end. So close. Two weeks, in terms of time. Three assessments, in terms of work. So you can tell me that it'll be fine and it'll all be over soon and that's great, thanks, but it's not much of a comfort, not really.

Losing Sleep

Today, I have handed in my report.

I have handed in my ballot paper. I have handed in my beauty to that devil known as insomnia and I have handed in my sanity in favour of rockin' out to dance music in my bedroom. I am always 21.

I might even go out tonight. I don't really want to go out tonight. 

On the jukebox: Dizzee Rascal ~ Bonkers

Boxed Butterfly

Today, I have been a balloon on a broken string.

Trouble is, sometimes, I just can't switch myself off. 

I am afraid of falling in love so I
Keep myself to myself
I want a cookie and I need a hug but I
Keep myself to myself


I keep myself to myself
And when I’m sad
I comfort myself with thinking that
No-one understands

On the jukebox: The Boy Least Likely To ~ When Life Gives Me Lemons, I Make Lemonade

White Noise

Today, I have listened to the radio.

As I do most mornings, for about twenty minutes or so. Sometimes during the day. Rarely in the evening.

I like the radio. You don't have to chose what music to put on and maybe you'll find something you enjoy. I like the radio, because it tells you the news and offers views. When you spend every day with the same person, who has nothing new to say, it's a welcome break to listen to someone who chats about something other than words and pages and formatting. I like the radio, because you don't have to look at it. When you spend every day sitting, staring straight at a white computer screen, trying to find novel ways to explain that "well, it just didn't work, okay?" it's a nice change to be able to collapse onto a bed and absorb information without needing to look directly into a square of stark bright light. I like the radio, because you don't have to concentrate. When you spend every day with your brain struggling to process, well, anything, it's refreshing to not need to read, or watch or pay close attention. I like the radio, because it doesn't expect you to respond. When you spend every day, in between people, in between problems, in between dreams, it's a relief to have company that doesn't require a reply; that won't get in a huff if you choose to switch off.

Because sometimes, you just can't stand to hear someone singing the same tired tune, because sometimes, you just want to say, oh won't you please shut up and go away?

On the jukebox: The Pipettes ~ Stop The Music

Pretty Crystal

Today, I have no flower.

Not too long ago, I was given a gift. A sculpture, constructed from a few moulded glass capillary tubes with a magically grown copper sulfate crystal attached. It was beautiful. It looked like a royal blue chrysanthemum sitting atop a delicate transparent stem. And what's more, it was hand-made, specifically for me. This heartfelt creation took pride of place upon my shelf. 

That is, until this evening, when I realised that somehow it had fallen to the floor and smashed into pieces. My pretty crystal flower is no more. I am sad. Not only for the fact that I have lost a flower, but also, to realise that I can not share my loss with anyone. No-one saw the structure in all its glory, because I was too afraid to show it off; too worried that it would be seen as gloating; too concerned that it might seem like a simple sculpture was an subtle offering of something more substantial and too ashamed to admit that, although I appreciated the gift, I didn't want it to mean anything more than that. 

On the jukebox: Sweet Female Attitude ~ Flowers 

Okay Whatever

Today I have received a surprise package.

When encountering these kind of situations, whether it be a mystery parcel or a covert text, I tend to conduct an elaborate story in my head of how I should best go about the questioning of who it is from and why it has been sent. As all good liars know, it is best to keep it simple and not expand unless probed. Stick to a line that sounds plausible and everything will be fine. So I have this explanation which is mostly truth but may need to be embellished if inquiries delve deeper. Now, you may wonder wouldn't it be easier to just tell the whole truth, rather than concern yourself over exactly what to say. Well yes, perhaps, but I never did choose the open path.

The thing is, I always imagine these outlines of how the conversation could go if I were to be asked all these follow-up questions and you know, if they're persistent with the asking, it might have to eventually lead to the total truth. But rarely do I ever need to put the plan into place. Because the sad realisation is (and this is a snippet of wisdom that I first heard many moons ago), well, you have to remember: nobody really cares.

Drifting Away

Today, I have gone past the point of caring.

Reasons why I will definitely not be doing a PhD:

• I like routine and structure and I like when things work. Research offers none of those.
• Four more years in the same city with the same people, stuck in a lab all day? No way. 
• Too many men, too few females. I miss having girls around, you know?

Reasons why I could possibly consider doing a PhD:

• Flexible working hours and the freedom to do whatever you want, within reason.
• A 42 month contract, secured without interview and funded, tax free, £14k p.a.?! Where do I sign?
• Being around boys most of the time. You know, it's not as bad as they say. 

Okay, so I'm completely contrary but I'm sure that's no real surprise. This isn't a genuine contemplation of options by the way, I've already firmly decided that no way on earth will I be doing a postgraduate degree next year. Not after my experiences of the last few months, no thank you. In fact, on more than one occasion, I have wondered why I didn't just stick with the bachelor's when there was the choice...

However, science stress aside, I have had a great time, socially speaking and I wouldn't have wanted to miss out on that. And it's not over yet. I just have to slog through four more weeks of agony and then I am free from studying...forever. A prospect that both delights and terrifies me. Don't ask me what my plans are; I don't have them.

sugar & spice & all things nice

On the jukebox: Arctic Monkeys ~ Bet That You Look Good On The Dancefloor - don't know what you're looking for