How do I even attempt to write a coherent update after the week behind me?
It's been busy, so busy. But I've enjoyed it immensely; turning up at 'the office' before everyone else, setting up my books, my computer, my water bottle. Lunch prepared and cooling amongst a mountain of salad bowls, rotting vegetables, smoothies and forgotten yoghurts; a fridge full of healthy intentions for the regular office worker. Getting stuck in and forgetting time, working through mountains of data as the desks around me slowly fill up with fellow postgrads. The mood in the air is intense, absorbing, thick with thoughts and frustrations and inspiration. I'm getting through some important work, and ideas are overwhelming me, coming faster than I can deal with. Working on five things at once means I never get bored; passions mixed with frustrating amounts of brainless formatting mixed with searching frantically for that exact thing said by someone (I can't remember who) about this theory that I really should understand more clearly.
Words, names, articles, chapters: they're forming a mountain around my ears, threatening to drown me as I swim excitedly through the pages. For once I don't want the weekend; I want the weekdays to go on and on!
But weekend, I need you. My Friday 10km has been postponed as my body is aching curiously. It hurts to stand up and sit down, I groan as if thrice my age, I shuffle to buy milk, shuffle to make tea, creak as I bend down. Threatening red spots are popping up in my throat, and I feel as if something in persistantly stuck between my tonsils. Today I worked from home, pyjamas on, tea on tap, snacks a-plenty; here at least, no one can see my drooping eyelids or hear my pathetic groans.
The weekend won't be the way I like weekends to be, but for the best possible reasons! I have a test to prepare for! A test for a job at one of the most exciting companies I can imagine working for! It's not exactly Top Creative Woman In The Industry position. It's not even the start to a career at said company. But it is a foot in the door. And this particular door, well...