Stress

Exams start next week. Can foresee the effects of a fullblown outbreak, and already at the mercy of the sculptor that seems determined to mould and twist and configure my brain relentlessly into something that it is not. Only started pulling and sorting and compiling and reading my notes yesterday, which had been more productive. Had to borrow a book that dispersed any intense concentration, and now seems like the book is more fingerprinted by me than the exam material.

Gonna look for work, something that allows active interaction with living non-naggy things, no office or paperwork. Work and save hard, to mend the gaping hole in my savings book.

Spent the past two days in school with a friend, and I was let in on the many things that I missed out or overlooked. Realised just how much information the periodic table contains, thanks to her keen observation; how each family functions, laden with its unique problems; how playful and spanking-askingfor a seemingly serious girl can get; and the sheer volume that girls can chomp down within thirty minutes.

Out into the gold-digging world in thirteen months' time, and still there isn't any earth-shaking plan nor entrepreneurial spirit nor burning desire to serve. What's it like? Slogging all day long, so that one can live comfortably, or honestly for the love of it? Most would end up in the office, or in the classroom. The greens and furry are only for the specialists. How exclusive. The wrong path taken?