Watson wanderings


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It’s exam time. Cue panic. Cue self-loathing. Cue punishing one’s self for not having done more work earlier in the semester. Cue setting unrealistic expectations for my academic achievement that will probably end with me in a fetal position on the floor cradling a bottle of cheap wine on the day that exam results come out.  Yes, I am one of those people for whom getting a distinction feels like getting a fail. HDs get degrees too, people. WHY CAN’T I HAVE IT ALL??? OMG NOBODY WILL HIRE ME IF I DON’T HAVE PERFECT GRADES AND I WILL BE POOR FOREVERRRRR! etc.

So, in an effort to abate my insanity… oh and to also overcome panic at my jeans feeling tight, putting myself outside my spectrum of personal fat acceptance acceptance lately, just adding to the fear and loathing in Las ‘Berra… I’ve been trying to break up my study with a walk every day this week.

While I wouldn’t call Canberra unpleasant to walk around, it’s not particularly exciting either.  In the walking distance from my place there are mostly really, really ugly houses built in a hurry in the 1960s, ovals and parks where the grass is brown from Canberra’s incomprehensible mix of summer drought and winter frost and… yeah that’s about it.  But I guess I should just be happy I don’t have to waltz around an Indonesian abattoir on my afternoon rambles, right? Though I did see a youff in my neighbourhood the other day whose haircut wasn’t halal at all.  I also saw three electrocuted animals outside my very own apartment block thanks to the high voltage power cables right outside my window. I guess it’s just like a really brutal school for stupid possums?

Anyway, I’d better get back to it.

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