Robyn’s Nest

This picture (click here) represents how I feel at the moment - down to a tee. April has been hell and the frustration at having to put my life on hold while I write two 3,000 word essays is building up. I may well explode at some point.

I’ve swapped a few emails with some of the girls on my course and they’re all feeling the same - that if they hear the words “dominant coalition” or “propaganda” one more time they will lose the will to live.

And it’s funny how things like washing up, vacuuming and cleaning the bathroom suddenly become appealing tasks when the laptop and PR Handbook are sitting on the table, waiting to be put into action. I would rather do anything than sit down and get my essays done.

The good news is I’m pretty much there, they just need tidying up. I have no idea if they’re any good and will just have to hope and prey they make the grade - I’m not looking for a distinction or even a merit. A simple pass will do just fine.

I’ve just taken a couple of days off work to get cracking with these wordy wonders and I would honestly rather have been at work. Wednesday was a day of torture with fine tuning diploma essay number one straddled by a visit to the dentist and an appointment with the contact lens chap. The good news? I have sparkly white teeth and can see to the end of the road. The bad news? I am brain dead.

So, here’s to another weekend of misery. I’m working tomorrow (no pretty Naval pilots to look at this time either, boo hoo!) and Sunday will be dedicated, in its entirety, to finishing these damn essays.

On the flip side, this time next week my essays will have been handed in to the relevant bods at London Met Uni and it’ll be out of my hands. My life starts again next Friday.