A crazy week of long hours and little food
This last week was crazy. So crazy that I feel the need to record it another pointless entry, which, judging by the length, will be of interest to few.
Monday my essay was due in. The paternoster was shut down, and it literally started up again as soon as I got back down. I think it was taunting me. But I didn't care because the essay was in, and I'd actually finished it by 21:00 the night before. It was complete and utter crap, but who cares?
Tuesday was my presentation. It was also crap but I really didn't care. Who asks you to do a presentation the day after an essay? Dr. Harris, that's who.
Between my lecture and seminar on Wednesday, I had five hours of class, and so breakfast and lunch were nine hours apart. But Andrea and I watched Bridget Jones that night, and Bridget rules, so it all ended well. And when I walked back to Mary Gee, I saw two foxes. One walked right in front of me.
Thursday I ran around like a madwoman and then stayed up until 3:00 working on an essay, which stubbornly refused to write itself as requested.
Friday I spent selling tickets for the ISA Cultural Night. It was very cold in the Queens Hall foyer, and the stupid Varsity pub crawl promoters kept playing the same four songs on a continuous loop. They make me twitch now. I helped set up in Queens Hall and finally got back to my room, to have lunch at 21:00 and go to bed.
Saturday was the field trip to the National Gallery. Oh God, it was so good to be back in London. I could have kissed one of the pigeons in Trafalgar Square. And the National Gallery still smells the same, which was comforting.
My bow-tie professor from last year offered to take everyone to lunch, which was incredibly generous, since there were fifteen of us. We ended up eating at the Texan Embassay. This was incredibly surreal, as I felt like I was in a cheesy Mexican restaurant in the States but I'd look out the window and see the streets of London. But they served complimentary chips and salsa, so I wasn't complaining.
Finally got back into Leicester and ran into the Cultural Night. My ISA t-shirt was hideously unflattering and you could look right down it, but what can you do. I spent most of the evening backstage, lending moral support to the performers. At the end of the show I guarded the stairs and ended up having three drunk British guys hit on me. And helpfully, my name was on the unflattering shirt. It was amusing.
The afterparty in Elements went well. I was technically the DJ for about ten minutes. I enjoyed watching other people get drunk, especially a certain someone who drank nineteen shots, in addition to other drinks, but who shall tactfully remain anonymous.
I expected to sleep late on Sunday but woke up after only five hours. It had been twenty hours since I had eaten and I wasn't hungry. I avoided working on my essay but finally gave in. I decided I wouldn't go to bed until I was tired, which wasn't until 2:00 in the morning. A perfect ending to a busy and rather bizarre week.
Monday my essay was due in. The paternoster was shut down, and it literally started up again as soon as I got back down. I think it was taunting me. But I didn't care because the essay was in, and I'd actually finished it by 21:00 the night before. It was complete and utter crap, but who cares?
Tuesday was my presentation. It was also crap but I really didn't care. Who asks you to do a presentation the day after an essay? Dr. Harris, that's who.
Between my lecture and seminar on Wednesday, I had five hours of class, and so breakfast and lunch were nine hours apart. But Andrea and I watched Bridget Jones that night, and Bridget rules, so it all ended well. And when I walked back to Mary Gee, I saw two foxes. One walked right in front of me.
Thursday I ran around like a madwoman and then stayed up until 3:00 working on an essay, which stubbornly refused to write itself as requested.
Friday I spent selling tickets for the ISA Cultural Night. It was very cold in the Queens Hall foyer, and the stupid Varsity pub crawl promoters kept playing the same four songs on a continuous loop. They make me twitch now. I helped set up in Queens Hall and finally got back to my room, to have lunch at 21:00 and go to bed.
Saturday was the field trip to the National Gallery. Oh God, it was so good to be back in London. I could have kissed one of the pigeons in Trafalgar Square. And the National Gallery still smells the same, which was comforting.
My bow-tie professor from last year offered to take everyone to lunch, which was incredibly generous, since there were fifteen of us. We ended up eating at the Texan Embassay. This was incredibly surreal, as I felt like I was in a cheesy Mexican restaurant in the States but I'd look out the window and see the streets of London. But they served complimentary chips and salsa, so I wasn't complaining.
Finally got back into Leicester and ran into the Cultural Night. My ISA t-shirt was hideously unflattering and you could look right down it, but what can you do. I spent most of the evening backstage, lending moral support to the performers. At the end of the show I guarded the stairs and ended up having three drunk British guys hit on me. And helpfully, my name was on the unflattering shirt. It was amusing.
The afterparty in Elements went well. I was technically the DJ for about ten minutes. I enjoyed watching other people get drunk, especially a certain someone who drank nineteen shots, in addition to other drinks, but who shall tactfully remain anonymous.
I expected to sleep late on Sunday but woke up after only five hours. It had been twenty hours since I had eaten and I wasn't hungry. I avoided working on my essay but finally gave in. I decided I wouldn't go to bed until I was tired, which wasn't until 2:00 in the morning. A perfect ending to a busy and rather bizarre week.