Stress relief?

02Sep11

Hello, Fear! I was wondering where you’d got to. Oh, and here’s your friend Self-Pity, panting in behind you. Actually, Fear turned up a couple of days ago; Self-Pity only arrived this morning.

The dissertation – in case the situation is still unclear – ain’t going so well. I get up early, too early, and sit with a furred brain until I’ve spat out some non-sequiturs, then go to work. Now I’m stuck and useless and despairing. In a potentially risky move, I’m off to the hen weekend of a very dear friend of long standing, and I can’t wait. The prospect of leaving The Desk is spiked with fear, certainly, but accounts of country walks, long dinners, wine and ladies’ laughter is too much to resist. Christ, I need it.

Sunday will see me back in Lunding. The following 10 days are dedicated to the diss, and will see me divide into two selves: the stop-watchy, shouty one and the furrow-browed, prevaricatey one. Their characters are prone to alteration, depending on the circs, though there are only two of them. I suspect Monday will see them change into the thin, angry one trying to push the thick, whiny one over a wall.

Update: I have got myself a bit less stuck by going for a walk in Green Park and having a think about the running order. Things shook themselves into a logical order within about 20 minutes, which was lucky because all hope of concentration evaporated around the 23rd minute, when I happened upon a very fat couple furiously dry-humping under a tree. Eww. Not the way I would choose to comport myself of a lunchtime in what is, after all, a royal park.

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