So my maths calc exam is in just under eleven hours.
And if I’m completely honest, I couldn’t actually say for certain where my calculator is. A bad sign? Perhaps.
I’m basically working on the assumption that things will Turn Out Okay, based on the evidence that they do for the majority of the time. For me, that is, and I’m in a uniquely privileged situation and, let’s face it, one day my luck is due to run out.
Although hopefully it won’t be tomorrow. Or really any time before I finish my education, because if I go down the career path that I intend to go down, then education is really, really important.
Oh dear.
So today I did basically no revision – and by basically none I mean literally none. Because I sat down to remind myself of some trig stuff and then thought ‘Hey! This would be a good time to reread the last Harry Potter book!’. I read about two hundred pages of that, then went and bought a sandwich. Which took me two hours. I then stared into space for between thirty and forty minutes, and went for a run. Which was very nice, and which I’m getting better at. Unfortunately, the park was really full, on account of its being a hot and sunny – which is to say objectively glorious – day. Fine, only I don’t much like hot weather and I don’t like there being loads of people in the park when I go for a run. I like to sit by the duck pond by Ham Gate for a bit to get my breath back and – intrusion of all intrusions – there were people having a picnic in that specific spot. Which is just shamefully rude of them.
Anyway, after that I came back and had a shower – which, again, took me a stupid amount of time because having a shower turns into
- Have actual shower (i.e. utilise body wash, wash and condition hair, etc.
- Apply deep conditioning hair mask
- Shave legs
- Exfoliate face
- Comb out hair (which takes bloody forever)
- Apply mousse (also takes forever)
- Blow dry hair
Which I wouldn’t mind, but I seriously can’t be bothered with primping. The only reason that I primped was that I didn’t want to do work, and primping got me out of it. Chrissakes. Primping should end. Primping must be stopped.
And I’m aware, in case you were wondering, O Mirskyface, that this blog is as dull as sin. But it’s too hot to be interesting. I’m hot and sweaty and grumpy and want it to be winter so I can wear jeans and boots and cardigans and not have my hair turn into a crazy mess at the first hint of humidity.
Summer is bad, is I suppose what I’m really trying to say. Summer is evil. Summer must be stopped.
Oh, quelle fail. I’m sorry. This is so boring. This is so bloody boring.
Maths in a few hours.
Bring it, baby.
