1 red bull, 1 nice&spicy pot noodle, and 608 words and counting

Essay for week 5: Hellenistic Philosophy - "Can we know anything? Did the Stoics or the Skeptics have the better of the arguments over katalhptikh fantasia?" I don't need to tell you that it's due in at 6pm tomorrow and I've just begun the reading - and to be honest, I'm not particularly concerned about it. I managed to get a satisfactory response to my four hour essay last week, so I might as well take advantage of the fact. It's an unfortunate consequence of my working habits that I'm mentally unable to do work if I could be doing it closer to the deadline. My brain searches the week's schedule for a few hours to squeeze it into; the night before, the morning it's due in. Besides which I've learnt the frustrating way that no matter how long I spend on a piece of work it's never going to be perfect, and in any case I work much more efficiently under pressure. One of the reasons (I think) I get so irritated with my essays is the fact that they're never graded, and most of the time aren't particularly relevant to the supervision. They're more of a preparatory exercise; usually they don't cover the most interesting aspect of the topic, only lay the foundations of it. And while thinking of them this way doesn't make them easier to do well, it does make them easier to finish.

This week I didn't even get the relevant books until tonight (two texts between six of us!) so I decided not to let it worry me, and spent the day painting instead. I have naples yellow hue in my hair and my hands reek of white spirit up to the elbows, but I'm over halfway through a portrait of Iain and I'm really rather pleased with it. More to the point, I feel like me again; scents are always evocative, and the sharp oils/turps mixture, clinging to my clothes and my hands and my hair, is one I've particularly missed. It feels good to be using my time creatively - last week the days I didn't work I did very little else, and somehow doing nothing is more exhausting than anything. Today (aside from the painting and essay) I've managed to:

x. do my laundry (a laborious, time-consuming affair involving walking across the whole of college every half hour at least three times)
x. try on many pretty sale trousers at topshop, none of which fitted; 10s are too tight across the hips, 12s too loose at the waist. damn their eyes.
x. spend a blissful hour in the company of the stunningly attractive mr. johnston
x. attend a pre-emptive pancake party in Kenny B
x. decide on a May Ball (Clare) and book tickets

I'm especially pleased about the latter. It's to be an all-night affair, with ballrooms and extensive gardens filled with lanterns and candlelit pools; all wonderfully elegant and decadent and drunken. I'm looking forward to it tremendously.


(photo © Paul Troughton, 2000)