I have roughly around two weeks to get all my assignments finished. Two weeks. That's 14 measly days. Why do I always leave things to the last minute? I think the pressure urges me to work harder. Sort of like the other night when I had to run home from Belinda's as fast as I could (which is still relatively slow) as there was apparently an odd man driving around and grabbing innocent citizens. I'm pretty certain though that had he seen me, floundering along like a beached whale making a desperate attempt to return to the water after being washed ashore, he would have continued driving - probably increasing his speed as he did so. But, apparently I produce better writing when I am sat in my bedroom at 3am, surrounded by books, soaked in a cold sweat and on the verge of several rippling panic attacks. I wish my brain was cut out for academia. It amazes me how I can watch one episode of Friends and somehow have the entire twenty minutes memorised (my housemates especially love this gift) and yet, when I spend all day reading an article over and over I still can't take any of it in. It seems the older I get the harder it is to just "get by" in life. My stunning good looks and slender 26 inch waist will not last forever. I remember when I was taking my GCSEs - I sat in an exam for literally forty minutes, lording over everyone around me because I had already finished only to realise that there was a question on the other side of the paper. Not only was it worrying in regards to my grades, but it was also pretty humiliating as the people surrounding me were clearly aware of my mistake and spent the remaining ten minutes smirking at each other whilst they wrote obscenities on their desks.
Anyway, as I was saying, pressure. It's not fully set in yet, so my work isn't the best it could be. Or at least, that's what I gathered as I sat at my desk chair picking chewing gum off it for a good ten minutes. (I'm not entirely sure how it even ended up there - I think I must have gone to sleep chewing it, and then in a sudden fit of self-preservation decided to take it out and stick it on my chair to stop myself choking...). I then spent a further half an hour making a lasso out of the pulley system on my blinds and roping in my window instead of standing up and closing it like any normal human being. The self-satisfaction I felt after finally doing it was definitely worth it though. It was a good self esteem booster as I was at the time feeling pretty stupid after entering the wrong ethnicity on the census form... They should really spread the boxes a little bit further apart from each other. I also made the mistake of declaring that I spoke extremely good English (and feeling quite proud about it), only to then be told that that section was only meant for people whose first language was not English... You start to question your own intelligence when it's necessary to get someone to proof read your census.