Today has been the first day, in the entirety of my Oxford life, that I've just lain in bed. And watched RuPaul on repeat. Its actually been kind of lonely and dull and I've been feeling really very sorry for myself (but it has meant I could FaceTime some of my no.1 babes), and even more frustrating because I had an essay due at 4pm. Which I obviously have not handed in. But the tutorial is 1-on-1, so I really can't bullshit about Sufi missionaries. I'm not quite sure how I'll tackle that.
In reality, telling myself to stop has been hard. I have tried to work several times, contemplated walking into college to see my friends, working in a cafe. But I've been told by at least 5 people that I need to stay in bed, and 2 have even banned me from the pub tomorrow night.
It's a bizarre mix of punitive/toxic self-expectations to be pushing, driving, working all the time, and just being really so very happy that I want to embody and breathe the happiness and fun all the time. I want to do everything, every second of every day. This place, these people, and the autumn sun as it ignites the sandstone, and the cold river at 6am, and the frantic, relentless, essays, and the lack of tears because nothing could dampen this happiness.
This is not a very november-esque moodboard, that's for sure.
Some fuckin' brilliant things I've done, eaten, seen, read. Life, ah.
a surprise letter from my friend in Jordan
booking flights to see said friend
a cello concert
a night collaging and drinking g&ts
support for doin' the right thing, taking on the wrong
art galleries and museums, with friends, alone, with family
beautiful blue skies
feminist soc and its success; empowering, supporting, intelligent women*
running because it makes me feel free
just rlly fuckin' good people
the meadows
a day off
my best friend living next door
stimulating, challenging tutorials; essays read+written in 3 days
world history, because it's apparently my ting
granola + peanut butter
letters
feeling really very loved
a rlly good meal i made of dahl nd naan
postcards
not rlly thinking about food, and being grateful for it
But I am also dreaming, just a little, of an evening by the fire, with a home made mince pie, my cat and some wool and gang knitting. She is simultaneously 20-never-stopping-party-popping, and 70, with my knitting and cats.
what's been good for you guys?
I just accidentally opened my notes for the essay I haven't done. And felt a bit sick. I just know it means I'll be behind for next weeks, eek!
(pics are from: @woolandthegang, @yinshadowz (captioned 'there is a universe inside of men <3), @ashmoleanmuseum, @clemence_gouy, @komo.sis, @charlotte.ager, @analogbynat, @anne.art, @bmseventh)
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