I woke up at eight, squirmed around in bed and read a trashy novel til quarter to, got dressed in the biggest tumble & rush and headed off to one of my favourite places in university - the science library. It has no pretensions towards being cutely retro or terrifyingly futuristic and the people who inhabit hold a place in the inner chambers of my heart because they speak to the geek who lives inside me. You don't come here to socialize, or because it's a pretty place to study or even because it's particularly comfortable; you come here because it's so easy to get inside your textbook and spend the day all cosied up with the inner workings of virus replication. And if you're really lucky, like me, you end up with three like-minded cronies and halve the work you have to do by sharing essay prep. Yep, in the course of the day, in twelve hours, I've managed to collect notes on six essays. SIX! And I still have that unopened Pocket Rocket staring at me from the tabletop. (Once upon a time, a long time ago, I was called Pocket Rocket and I was in love with two boys whose names both started with a J and I was fifteen and fearless.)
I'm feeling anxious about stuff at my flat again lately, but am determined to not worry about it.
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