Skip to main content

Final Year (aka let the panicking begin)

It's eight o'clock in the evening and I'm sitting here, three nights before I move out for my third year at university and what am I doing? I am panicking. (In a good way. Kind of.)

These past few days I've been pouring over old photos because two of my young cousins hit milestones this past week: one started primary school, the other started secondary school. Now, I'm not being funny but when did I get so grown up? I should be the one starting school surely?! But no, I am alas beginning my final year of my degree. Don't get my wrong, I am excited; I'm so looking forward to living with the girls I'm sharing a flat with, meeting new people, being confident-sassy-sexy (the killer trio), spending time with my nearest and dearest, and (hopefully) (seriously, so much hope) kicking ass at my degree. I'm a final year english student which generally means me running around aimlessly with a book in front of my face saying stuff about words and hoping I make sense.

The modules I'm doing this year are super-duper-wooooooper interesting. I'm studying Georgian Literature and Shakespeare (yay old), and Science Fiction and my dissertation on 1930s literature (yay new). It's a lovely mix. A mix that may drive me crazy ("To be or not to be? That's from Blade Runner right?"), but in such a thrilling way. Plus, I get to read sci fi for my degree... HOW COOL?!

Anyway, it's all go-go-go. I said goodbye to friends and family this week. I tried not to cry. (Did I or did I not succeed? *tension builds*) I tried to sort out the mess that is my room. I bought last bits for uni. I looked around at the tip that is my room and hid from it. I played music really loud and drank whisky and read sci fi and watched netflix. This is how one adults, correct? I certainly do feel somewhat grown up because my best friend is starting a full time job in two weeks and I'm interning for a publishing company, and writing my Master's personal statement, and starting to consider what I am going to do come June next year (it'll fly by. That's scary.) for goodness sake.

Basically, life is great. Busy, and hectic, and messy, but great. I have hit 8,000 views on here which is wholly and completely crazy so *peeks up from behind blanket* hi. *Waves* Welcome to the madness.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Just Dietary Things | Eating Gluten and Dairy Free

Around a month ago, my boyfriend and I pootled into Pizza Hut and I said "ooh go on then" and had lovely, lovely cheese on my gluten free pizza.

Three years ago in May I was diagnosed coeliac, and since my diagnosis I have never had an "ooh go on then moment" because I know the dire consequences it can have on my body. Every day, I swallow calcium, vitamin D, B12 and ranitidine tablets in an effort to keep my bones and body healthy. Everywhere I go, I look at labels and folders of ingredient information. Being coeliac is something I'm used to now, but it's taken me a year to solidly give up lactose (and I'm still not 100% sure I'll last Christmas...).

The day after my Pizza Hut escapade, I was sick. Slowly over the last year of being lactose free on and off, my reaction to lactose has worsened. My stomach doesn't like food very much (even if my mouth and brain do!) and I often feel sick after eating, but lactose made that significantly worse. As…

Breathing: Intergalactic Style

As I sit here with vaguely glittery handy, my body smelling of vetivert, cedarwood and peppermint I remember that I need to take my own advice more. As I have repeated on countless occasions here (and, honestly, anywhere I can), growing up can be tough. Add hormones and period cramps to the mix and you have the lovely, wonderful result being-on-the-brink-of-tears-for-no-reason. Though trivial and very much not the worst thing in the world, I very much do appreciate ways to avoid feeling like this; especially when weekends have become so precious - time to spend with my boyfriend, reading, and - well - just out and about during daylight hours at the moment.

So what did I do this evening? I finally plugged up the courage to see if the plug I bought for my bath in my shared house (do you like my pun... I'm hilarious) fits and well, if it fits, I sits. I have yet to delve further into the Lush bathbomb treasure troves, but I decided tonight was the night I was going to use Intergalact…

This is my Metamorphosis

Yes, it is that time again. Claire is feeling low-key-stressed so she submerges herself in water. In actual fact, normally I get to a stage a high-key-stress before getting into the tub - this time, I only have access to a bath for 2 more weeks (due to moving... for the third time in a year) so I thought I'd make the most of my local Lush.

A while ago I spotted Metamorphosis and asked the member of staff to show us what it did (she gave us pick of the store). Now... I love the smell of this bath bomb (my bathroom and skin slightly smell of that lovely concoction of scents). The wow-factor was less impressive with this one. Which leads me to the questions: is that always an imperative for a successful bath bomb? Does it have to look absolutely beautiful, or can the warmth and smells lull you to a sense of happiness only a bath can achieve?

The fact that I would definitely buy Metamorphosis again, says "no, the prettiness doesn't matter", but I loved the smell and that…