This won’t be a very good post; I can feel it. I’m rusty. It’s been months – perhaps longer than ever before. But I’m in a writing mood, and especially after all this time, I can’t let that go to waste; maybe I can use it to gain some momentum, warm up a little. Continue reading
I’m sick today. And since this apparently makes me incapable of concentrating for more than five minutes on anything other than feeling sorry for myself, I thought I’d share a short post with you about some observations I’ve made in the course of my sick day.
First up, Superdrug: thank you for being the only chemist open on a Sunday. I bet half your weekly revenue comes in on the one day every other pharmacy in the area is closed: that’s smart business practice right there.
Also for you, Superdrug: as if being open on a Sunday weren’t helpful enough, I also observed that you had the consideration to put a warning on your boxes of tissues, reminding me to ‘Please check all paper tissues have been removed from garments before washing’. It’s things like this that let me know you have my back.
Finally, to Cadbury’s: thanks for equipping your large 120g bars of chocolate with a resealable opening, but let’s be honest here: you needn’t have bothered.
Well, that’s my concentration span exhausted for just now. Better get back to my essay, which is due tomorrow and which I have no motivation – and I mean none whatsoever – to complete. :(
I’d say hugs and kisses but you don’t want to come anywhere near me, so a wee wave goodbye will do.
I’ve been quite quiet lately because I’ve been “busy”. For me, that means oscillating between periods of utter apathy, Words with Friends and alarming quantities of snacking; and moments where all the important things I must achieve put so much pressure on me that I work frantically on one whilst feeling guilty that I’m not doing the others. If you look over my shoulder and observe me typing up an email to a translator, politely asking how one enters into the specialty of translating cookbooks (my current life goal), you can be sure your nose is brushing the angel that sits there screaming in my ear, ‘you have two essays to write this month what use is it knowing how to get a job if you fail your degree because you were too busy jobhunting to study you imbecile‘. Yet, when I am studying, the angel decides this would be the perfect time to take the entrance exam for the internship I applied for last week, and criticises me for being too much on-paper and not enough on-the-ball.
Well, that was an intense semester.
Aside from my written and spoken language requirements, I’ve had a literature module each for French and Spanish, and they have been fantastic. Especially the Spanish one. The Spanish Newspaper Column By Writers was perfect for a blogger, as the assessed coursework was not an essay but rather two of our own newspaper columns, our handling of which was supposed to be indicative of our understanding of the column as a literary genre; being a blogger helped me to compose these assignments, and composing the assignments was useful for my blogging, too. Not just the assignments, in fact, but the course in general: I learned a great deal from the module, not only in terms of Spanish literature but much more generally as well. Continue reading
Well, posting those pictures a couple of days ago reminded me of how much I’ve missed being here. So even though it’s late and I don’t have a lot to say today, I do have some photos that I took several months ago in Basel when I visited the paper museum there. As you know, I have a bit of a thing for paper and books and things, so the day before I left Strasbourg to come home to Edinburgh, I hopped on a train and went to Switzerland for one more look at the beautiful town of Basel and this fascinating museum.
It’s been forever. How have you been?! I’ve been cuh-razy busy, as you can tell from the lack of posts. I’m going to give up apologising for my flakey behaviour, because it looks like I’ll never change. But what with working 12 hours a week on top of my final-year studies (seriously, something major happened to the workload while I was gone), stuff started to get on top of me a little. I dropped the 12 hours at Sandemans just in time, it seems, as deadlines have been rolling in like a line of Russian tankers, ready to flatten me into the ground. If Russian tankers had French accents and shot shells of 20th-century Surrealist French literature, that is. Continue reading