That said, I've got time, not just the next twelve weeks, but time after that to work into whatever happens next. I also have a funny way of working better once I stop caring so much.
I'm talking to a friend in Norway and one in Singapore about doing some work abroad. I've got some ideas to write too and without deadlines I might just be able to do it.
This might sound depressed or defeatist, but it's quite the opposite. I'm happy that I'm doing what I'm doing (Honours, not necessarily my thesis) and I'm happy I didn't put it off or do a coursework Masters.
It's a really steep curve, but I've never liked things being too easy. What Honours has taught me (so far) more than anything else, is that there is more out there, regardless of what it is.
We spend our time stressing about things to hand in, whether it is the best we can do, what we need to sacrifice to make it happen. This might sound a little hippybullshitesque, but it's a year of experience, a year that's eight months long, and a lot of the best things happen in the spaces between the words. The time you spend with your sibling watching inane television. The time you meet your friend for coffee you forgot about with your nose in a book. The time you got out your guitar and realised just how rusty you were - and how much you love playing it regardless.
As much as Honours dominates your existence (sleep included), it's a year and that is all. It's a crazy, confusing, hellish ride, but it's also beautiful in it's madness, like a demented Grandparent.
And like your sire's sire, you'll hate it while it's there and miss it when it isn't.
Stop hating. Love what it is when it is and still look forward to what happens next...
...afterwards.
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