Second week of school is done.
Ashamedly, I feel hammered. Beat. Pathetic. Exhausted. Defeated.
No, I didn’t try to build a nuclear weapon in a week- but close. After six months of working and relaxing in South Africa and Uganda respectively, my body experienced a rude awakening to the roller coaster that is university life. Ah-yo-ma! (South African slang for Ehhhh or Gossshhh or AYAYAYAYA)
I should have known I had forgotten how to balance social life and being somewhat on top of my reading. It’s only the second week but I am incredibly behind. Even self-admiting makes me cringe into a golf ball. Ugh- that unkind feeling of self-disgust.
But, with all thunderstorms, they eventually stop and in comes the light drizzle and rainbow o’er on the horizon. I rediscovered my love for chilling at Argo Tea (at the insistence of a friend) and found this gem of a column. E.Jean is my new role model. Her Elle columns are funny as heaven. It really is exciting stumbling upon people/blogs/foods I know nought.
Here are my brief lessons learned over the past weeks:
1. Multitasking needs to take a \_ No cushion. It’s incredibly misleading and never, ever breeds success.
2. Paranoia in moderate quantities is good. Paranoia in excess is deadly. I’m currently waiting admission into Paranoids Anonymous.
3. Not every thought needs to transition into spoken word. By disobeying this crucial rule, I committed the biggest gaffe of my life.
1. Compressing tasks to humanly achievable forms. Making long lists of that busy schedule only makes me feel busy. Procrastination to avoid the long list always wins the seduction battle.
2. Argo Tea is my spot. For studying. And people-watching.
3. Smiling at strangers is fun.
4. Shifting an acquaintance to the friend zone is a cool experience when it’s mutual.
5. Allowing myself to learn the least expected from other people. Every day.
7. A week without a workout is as bad, if not worse, as accidentally tasting spoilt milk. Walking to campus is a serious cop out.
8. E.Jean just knows what’s up.
9. In every crapper, there’s a pearl. No, really.
And 10. Move on. It’s as easy as telling the mind to.