I had a sudden epiphany this morning, when I was finishing off a presentation for uni: it makes a huge difference if you like your lecturer. If you clash, it makes it very hard for you to want to complete the work, let alone have it be your best work. And me and this current lecturer? … Yeah. Not a fan. And certainly not looking forward to our next one-on-one consult, that’s for sure.
I swear to god this week is trying to kill me. Frankly, I hope it rains on Sunday, so I can justify barricading myself in my apartment and watching all of Sailor Moon Crystal in my pyjamas.
Back in Sydney, back home, hooray!
My apartment is very small, and made smaller by the excess of furniture I have (a giant ottoman, named Otto from the Ottoman Empire, that folds out into a bed), a resin cow named Valencia, my desk and desktop computer set up, bookcase, couch, coffee table… the list goes on. And it’s kind of dark – dodgy lights, bottom floor apartment. But it’s my happy place. It’s my sanctuary. And when my mum was staying last week (I was at her place), she tidied up. It’s lovely. I could lie on my couch for hours, reading.
But my iPad battery is flat.
And I do have class tomorrow morning, then I must brave the crowds to grab some groceries (and, um, perhaps a stop at Gorman I think I have a serious problem. But a girl need her matching scarf and gloves sets )
But right now, I have a bag of broken Easter chocolate, my laptop has 34% battery and it’s only 9:19pm, so everything is good.