In terms of excitement, I can safely say that third year is climbing the charts of most unexciting year ever. Despite this, I woke up on Saturday morning lying next to a 4ft ceramic cat that was previously owned by Chester Student's Union. Why, or more importantly how, I smuggled a giant ornamental feline out of the SU bar on Friday night I will never comprehend, but it has now taken pride of place in our living room and has replaced the fish as the favourite house pet.
Other than the cat burglary (ha), not much has really happened this week apart from a small trip to the opticians. Given my abominable eyesight (again, cheers God), I've been steadily building up a collection of lens cloths since I was about three. However, the first time I've ever needed one in the entire seventeen years I've been wearing glasses, I obviously didn't have one on me. (I wasn't actually cleaning them, I needed to clean my camera lens. Don't worry, I'm not one of those people). Thinking they might be nice to one of their most loyal customers, I called into the opticians in town to try and persuade them to give me a free one, or at least let me borrow one. But no. People are mean these days, and I was forced to buy one as the woman behind the desk watched me with beady eyes. I don't know if she thought I was going to steal it or what, but she didn't take her eyes off me, which made it impossible to look at the price, reel in shock, and carefully place the cloth back on the shelf. No, instead, I used my best poker face as I discovered that one individual cloth cost three English pounds, let the woman take it out of my hand, scan it, and then rob me. Three pounds. I felt sick. It's not as though there's even anything special about it - the only difference between this one and the free ones you get with a pair of glasses is that this has little finger grips, just in case you do not posses the ability to properly grasp an object.
Maybe once I'm done with university I can do another course that will teach me how to act in certain social situations (and by that, I mean any interaction with another human). Basic interaction would be the first step, then the teachings of how to act in actual situations (i.e. parties), and then, if progress has been made, how to act in a relationship. I'm guessing they would probably frown upon letting yourself into your boyfriends house whilst he is at work and his parents on holiday to eat his food and play his xbox... (Which I have never done... obviously.)
Despite recent lecture cancellations etc., the stress of Dissertation (I don't even like saying the word) has continued to loom over me. In search of some direction on the university website, I noticed a little section advising students that there is always 'help and support' available from the university counsellors. Unless they are going to do my dissertation for me (a service, I noted, they do not offer), I really do not comprehend how going to speak to someone about how stressed I am could in anyway lessen my stress. Especially when the person I am speaking to is a woman in a business suit, already well settled in a stable career. Whenever something is going wrong, the last person I want to speak to is someone successful. I want to speak to a person who has not started their dissertation, has recently failed an essay, or is in any way, shape or form in a worse position than myself. If I was the head of the university (I had to stop myself from typing 'universe' and getting all power hungry there), I would employ failing undergraduates as my counselling staff. Or maybe unemployed thirty-somethings who still live with their parents. It would probably help if they were massively fat, too.
p.s. If you like my photography (or just if you like me), you can go here http://www.artistswanted.org/portfolio.php?artist=amyhittheatmosphere and vote for my photographs! Exciting, isn't it? And, you can do it once a day - a perfect task to fit into your routine :)