I stayed up until four o'clock this morning, working on a short story for class.
...and then, when I woke up properly, I scrapped pretty much every word on the page. Or I altered it, somehow. (And so it turns out, 5000 word short stories really aren't my thing).
Tonight, in the shower, I convinced myself I'd missed a deadline.
...and then I double-checked. I hadn't. (And so it turns out, these early morning stresses really aren't my thing).
I have never stressed this much about work and so I can't figure out if I am totally over this whole university thing or deeply, deeply in love with it. But I think having the opportunity at all is a pretty wonderful thing. (I know it is).
As stressful and as frustrating as the last few weeks' have been, they have also been lovely. There has been a lot to write home about, you know. Like the warmest of snuggles and watching Elf with my sister, and last night, having the nicest conversation with a new, dear friend.
It's these things, these little things, that I'm holding pretty close right now.