(no subject)
They're over! THE EXAMS ARE OVER! WOOOOO! They weren't one-tenth as bad as the Leaving Cert, though.
Last night at half eleven Martha texted me to ask would I come over and help her take out the bins. Then she was going to do laundry. WTF? Does she have nothing better to do at that time of night, especially with an exam the next day?
At dawn's early light, when I walked into my trashed kitchen (from when my housemate + friends came back last night) there was a guy sleeping on the floor. I worried about waking him, but it is MY kitchen and nothing was going to stop me from making MY breakfast.
Anyway, the exam. The sample questions that the lecturer told Catherine were definitely going to come up...didn't come up! I had a nine-page essay prepared on the 'function of art'! I think I'm psychic, too: the minute I laid my hand on the closed paper I knew that that question wasn't on it. Then I panicked for a few minutes. And then I somehow fitted my answer on art into 'Is civilisation a good thing?' [with reference to Freud or Marx or Darwin or whoever] and don't ask me how I did that because I really don't know.
Had a lovely chat with a woman while waiting for the train home, because it turned out she was in my hometown the other day.
Now I be home, and comfortable, and warm. Fare thee well, Aristotle! So long, Edmund Burke!
Last night at half eleven Martha texted me to ask would I come over and help her take out the bins. Then she was going to do laundry. WTF? Does she have nothing better to do at that time of night, especially with an exam the next day?
At dawn's early light, when I walked into my trashed kitchen (from when my housemate + friends came back last night) there was a guy sleeping on the floor. I worried about waking him, but it is MY kitchen and nothing was going to stop me from making MY breakfast.
Anyway, the exam. The sample questions that the lecturer told Catherine were definitely going to come up...didn't come up! I had a nine-page essay prepared on the 'function of art'! I think I'm psychic, too: the minute I laid my hand on the closed paper I knew that that question wasn't on it. Then I panicked for a few minutes. And then I somehow fitted my answer on art into 'Is civilisation a good thing?' [with reference to Freud or Marx or Darwin or whoever] and don't ask me how I did that because I really don't know.
Had a lovely chat with a woman while waiting for the train home, because it turned out she was in my hometown the other day.
Now I be home, and comfortable, and warm. Fare thee well, Aristotle! So long, Edmund Burke!