fever

It’s been a shock to the system going back to work. I spent most of Monday fantasising about quitting, only to be faced with the grim reality that this is the best prospect I have — I can work a less awful job, for a lot less money, but really — the work is not SO terrible, it’s just that I really don’t want to do it. So today I tried harder, and with the help of my old friend caffeine, mustered up enough enthusiasm to somehow survive the day.

Maybe it’s the aftermath of the coffee but after work, my library session was DEMENTED. I am so enthralled by my research on Bamiyan and the destruction of the Buddhas. I’m writing a BOMB of an essay and I am bordering-on-consumed with the topic. My three hours of study flew by this evening, and on the way home I was That Girl crouched by the tram stop trying to scrawl notes in the dark. I have to stop when I get this tired though, because I start going off on these ridiculous tangents. My essay plan is coming together beautifully nonetheless, and the more I read, the more detailed it gets, and the more confident I feel.

My schedule has also come together, kind of. Wednesdays, Fridays and Sundays are Yoga-days. Tuesdays, Thursdays and Saturdays are Study-days. Mondays are unsurprisingly a complete write-off and are just-get-through-today-days, lay-in-bed-watching-tv-shows-days. Of course, I have to do that stupid WORK thing in the daytime, but I am trying to think of it as an exercise in advocacy. I will do my best to develop transferable skills… I will, I will!

Last night I watched an amazing film, Séraphine. I mentioned her the other day, she was an uneducated cleaning-lady in the 1910s, who was unexpectedly discovered to be a fantastically talented artist, painting late at night whilst singing herself to religious ecstasy. Her paintings have that fascinating blend of supernatural and naturalism that make them at once incredible artworks, and yet a terrifying glimpse into some sort of insanity. I thought that Séraphine was interpreted so well by Yolande Moreau, even though she will always be a “Deschiens” for me! And I loved the ending… don’t worry, no spoilers! but in my experience French films (and novels) tend to end very bleakly more often than not, and there was nothing in Séraphine’s biography to give us a happy ending… so I thought it was very touching and beautifully shot.

senlis

And on a last note… I really love my new home. It’s worth having to get up at 6:45am and not getting home till 10pm.
my room

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