Concerning my work ethic

So, as I have completely lost all leave of my senses, I have volunteered to be on the staff-student council for mediaeval history.

OH GOD HELP ME NOW.

It doesn't look like it's a lot of work, and I think I'm still subconsciously working on the idea of "It'll look good your UCAS form!" In all seriousness, I think it's time I actually got involved in at least some stuff that isn't DocSoc, plus it's a vague tentacle out into the murky world of student politics. I think that is probably a good thing, given eventual plans for world domination political life or something like that.

Anyway. I enjoyed last night. I went to see ( Pride and Prejudice with Lisa. )

Then came home. In my role as the mother of this house, I tend to at least organise the cooking and cleaning and do a fairly large portion of it. Don't really mind, as I quite enjoy them both and find them fainrtly therapeutic. I went with vague "Please leave my tea in the oven!" type commands - we all pay for a portion of the food every night, so it makes sense and it gets done for other people. We didn't really eat on Tuesday - a disasterous experiment with stuffed peppers which involved phone calls to Germany to find out when you were meant to add the cheese - so I was in the mood for, y'know, some actual food. Except no one had cooked. So I had an egg. Which I discovered later I had kicked from Salda. So I need to buy some eggs now, too. Tonight, I am cooking if it kills everyone. WANT PROTEIN NOW.

Anyway. I have very little else to write about. I'm on the library computer as it's slightly too far to go home. I really don't want to actually do any work, because I am a lazy bum. There is a joke for first years - "Strive for a five!" (Five is the lowest pass mark.) As long as you pass the exams, you're in to the next year, pass them and you're into Honours. All your marks in sub-honours don't count. So... well... why bother? I'm enjoying the lectures (oh, the shame) and I do get a grim sense of pleasure out of figuring out Spanish grammatical rules, but really. Housemates are working themselves into the ground with work, whereas I am taking it easy. Doing the required reading, certainly, planning time to make notes (on the train tomorrow is the plan Thus Far) and get some books out of the library for the mediaeval history tutorial, but I'm really not willing to kill myself over it. Derya bopped downstairs yesterday when I came in from the payphone.

"I'm happy!" she declared.

"Oh, good. Why?"

"I've decided to stop working for today!"

I glanced at the clock. It was 9.40pm.

Maybe it's just me - heaven knows my body gives up at 8 and that is basically the point of no return, which is tricky before exams but does result in more sleep - but it seems nuts to spend all day working like that. It's the third week. No essays for ages, and I'm certainly not planning mine yet. Oh well. Maybe this is all the arrogance of someone who managed to get four A grades and still feels glowy from it. I will probably suffer soon.

Could do with some sleep and decent food, first. Let the work take care of itself. It always did and probably always will, in the end. The only person I've spoken to with the same attitude here is Nadia, who lives in Gatty and does Modern History. We have decided that we shall be layabout working-class representatives (she's a Geordie, it's my new favourite accent for the broadness of it) and horrify everyone else.

~Hathy_Col~

(no subject)

Oh look I found my work ethic. It was hiding behind the sofa in Spanish all the time.

Found myself enjoying Spanish today as I appear to have accidentally learnt the alphabet (no idea how or when, I can just rattle it off, wuhtuhfuh?) and asking questions about grammar and stuff. I actually wanted to know why the nouns worked the way they did.

Then it all got a little bit more barmy. I got Self-Righteous. Some guy n our class if a bit of an eejit, and hasn't got a book or even bought any paper or a notepad. He talked, sniggered and generally interrupted class. Someone else said it before I did, to be fair:

"This is university, not high school. What a knob."

Right on sister, or something like that. I think it was the way he was speaking to Maria-Jose (the tutor) as though she was an idiot and taking up class time. It was slightly offensive. I actually grabbed him on the way out of class, as he had been sitting behind me the whole time and made it difficult for me to hear about how to feminise nationalities.

"Do you pay to be here?"

"Uh... sure, I pay fees..."

"Do you pay it yourself? And your food bill? And your rent?"

"What?"

"Do you have to actually really concentrate for this class to make sense? I have to do all of those. I am not here for fun, I am here to learn. Just fucking doodle next time, okay?"

He apologised. I marched off. I have probably not made a friend. But I feel better and self-righteous. Went to Tescos in a self-righteous stew and probably would have stayed in it. But! There is a package for me! Well, there is the depot (again), so I shall pick that up tomorrow. AND my phone has been connected. I have only one bit of Spanish to do and one Spanish lesson left until the weekend. We are having stir-fry tonight. Tomorrow is Friday.

w00t!

Life just improved, oddly. I'm even going to do my Spanish homework now.

~Hathy_Col~