STUDying abroad ...

Ok, I brought this on myself.

At the time of writing, it is 12:03 Greenwich Mean Time. I’ll list a couple other important times and dates. The first: 13:30 on Wednesday November 10; the time in which I have to hand in a paper for my Modernism seminar. The second: 19:45 on the same day; the time which I and a friend have tickets to see the mighty Liverpool FC kick the sorry shite out of Wigan. The last: tomorrow November 8 at 11:00, the time in which my train is set to depart from Norwich to northern England where I will be taking a bit of a holiday this week until Saturday.

Now, you don’t exactly have to be a gifted mind to realize that, before I can board my train and piss off for the rest of this week, I first need to hand in my Modernism paper. Herein lies the problem: In addition to being 12:15 at the time of writing, as of now I have just finished a lengthy session of staring blankly at my equally occupied computer page and wondering, ‘what the fuck I am going to write about?'

Given that I need to allocate for myself about an hour to get to the train station tomorrow morning, and that the process of printing pages at UEA is about as an illogical mess as my process of writing this Modernism paper, I need to give myself about two hours to hand in this paper, get to the train station by 11:00 and board my train to Lancaster. This means two things. The first: that I have 9 hours to conceive, write and proofread a paper before I hand it in. The second: I’m a fucking idiot.

Now, university in England may be a complete joke, just an excuse for English twentysomethings to get drunk, an insulting mockery of rigorous academia, or all of the above; but, this really takes the piss. Unacceptable. Also, the fact that I have just used up more of these precious nine hours writing this blog is equally despicable and counterproductive. As I sit here in my room, listening to Passion Pit, I am contemplating two things. The first: the possibility of analyzing the apocalyptic doomsaying of Yeats’ “The Second Coming” as a prediction of the rise of facism. The second: the utter certainty of my flatmates ripping me for publishing a blog when I am supposed to start writing this paper to hand in tomorrow morning, enabling me to skip a week of classes.

At the time of publishing, it is 1:01 Greenwich Mean Time. Sleep does not present itself as a possiblity. 8 hours left ... LW