![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
helenicI think I've done more work in the last week than at any other point this year. Iain left at dawn yesterday morning for a geology fieldtrip on the Isle of Arran, so I'm alone until the 26th. I didn't really notice during the day because I had so much work to get through and then two supervisions in the evening, but when I finally got home at 7pm I was cold, tired and hungry, and coming back to an empty room and no food was singularly forlorn. I don't really know whether I need him or not, but I want him here more than anything, and am so used to just being able to walk across college to his room that not having him five minutes away is horribly isolating. I was only rescued from my own company at about 9.30, when Ruth, thank god, dragged me to the pub and paid attention to me until I felt better. I love that girl. We talked about everything; exes and friends, films (mainly horror), French, insomnia and books (Jane Eyre, Mansfield Park, Rebecca). After an internal debate I decided whatthehell and bought a burger and chips, because however nice not eating feels I like food more - although in the end I couldn't finish it anyway.
Wednesday was drunk fun with an Indian restaurant (they do the best lime pickle on the planet) and Gonville&Caius, which I'd never even been inside before but am already infatuated with. It's like a country mansion; tiny quads filled with trees and secret fountains, turrets and towers with mysterious blue-lit windows, huge wooden staircases, balconies, and everything oak-panelled and plush and very Hunt Ball (which wasn't helped by the fact that they had all just come out of formal hall and were being drunk and declamatory in black tie). The bar is like a medieval tavern - the bar itself is overhung by wooden carvings, the beer comes in tankards, and (most importantly) the drinks are cheap. We downed £1shots and white wine and alcopops until we were stupid enough to go to Cindy's, a nasty townie club that admittedly plays really good cheesy pop. I had a mini-adventure in Christ's when I was so desperate for the loo I sneaked into the nearest staircase (M), up two flights of stairs and into someone's bathroom, which is more fun than it sounds when you're on your eighth drink. Iain and I danced until I was actually falling asleep on his shoulder.
I've just come back from my end of term DOS meeting. My reports this term are about the same as in Michaelmas - some are worse (I need to be more disciplined) but others are better. I'm still being predicted mostly 1/2.i, and prat crit and literature are particularly good. I'm not really bothered either way; I have a peculiar arrogance in that I very rarely listen to anyone's opinion of myself but my own and that of a couple of close friends. My own opinion is probably more critical than anyone else's, but I take neither praise nor censure well. When I was predicted firsts last term it bothered me for days until I talked myself out of believing it; and yet I want to hope so much that it might be true. I'd like to think I'm capable of doing well (and by that I mean best), but it means too much to me to let myself be disappointed. And at the same time I'll happily spend a term reading novels and having sex and not handing in a single essay on time. My priorities are all mixed up.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
on 2003-03-14 06:49 am (UTC)no subject
on 2003-03-14 07:15 am (UTC)I've booked train tickets!! I'm arriving in Stratford station at quarter to two on Saturday afternoon, and I'm going at midday monday. I can spend a couple of hours looking round the shops if you're busy monday morning. xxxx