The best laid plans
March 9th, 2010Never count on anything involving technology.
My week started somewhat enthusiastically yesterday, with a spurt of last-minute reading and 2,500 words of drivvle genius (I’m thinking positve/delusional). 
But then I went and ruined it by sinking into my usual Monday night grump, which actually turned into more of a oh-my-God-I-don’t-know-what-I’m-doing-with-my-nearly-30-years-of-life crisis. 
I have a feeling that there may be a few more of these little ‘asides’ between now and October. I can’t even call it a quarter-life crisis anymore. Depressing. 
But before (crying myself) to sleep, self-pity and tissues on standby, I told myself that today wasn’t going to be a miserable day. And I was determined to snap out of it this morning with a surge of productivity and brilliance. 
Right up until the point where I realised my laptop was screwed so I wouldn’t be able to work from home. And that walking to work was going to be agony thanks to my running injury from Sunday’s little snippet of over-ambition. And that I didn’t actually have any ideas to be productive and brilliant with. 
So I hobbled to work muttering to myselves, battled with my stupidity for 6 hours straight, managed to put together something that may resemble coherence in the right light and am praying that my supervisors are in a good/hallucinatory mood for our meeting tomorrow. 
As for the oh-my-God-I-don’t-know-what-I’m-doing-with-my-nearly-30-years-of-life crisis, that is still ongoing. 
Although I’m trying to hide it and concentrate on the you’re-only-as-old-as-the-man-you’re-feeling mantra instead. 
That should be good for knocking a few years off eh?! So to speak…
Current Mood: 
I read all of the journal articles I had brought home for the weekend. As opposed to them just getting to see my bedroom from the inside of my bag. 
And I think something clicked at some point and at least a couple of my selves know what we’re doing. Maybe. 
I then went and 
Sustained a few injuries. Because I’m a clumsy cow and went arse over tit on an invisible obstacle. But I like to think that just officially makes me a hardcore runner. Right?! 
Then, having arrived back home and keeping my movements of the evening to an absolute minimum due to the fact that it hurts to walk and sit down and stand up and breathe, I put my time to 
But at least I can tell my parents what a good girl I’m being eh?! 
This PhD thing is a bit hardcore. I am supposed to be designing my pilot study. Developing materials. Reading, reading, reading. 
But, unfortunately, coming up with a design for the study depends on understanding the reading which I have a complete inability to do. 
I actually had to talk myselves (all 7 of them) down from hyperventilating over this fact earlier. Stresssssss. 
In true student form though, I was out getting drunk last night. On the vodka mind, rather than the sambucca. I’m a classy PhD student now dontcha know. 
I know I should have spent the night at home studying. But who does that on a Friday night?! And I had a hot date didn’t I? Could hardly say no to that. 
We’ll see how the work (interspersed with a 15 mile run, apparently) goes tomorrow anyway. And it may be that the local shop soon runs out of its supplies of ProPlus and RedBull… 
But having got rid of said headache, I decided to have a laugh at myself about the melodramatic mood I’ve been in this week. When you have 7 selves, there is a lot to laugh at. 
And we have all been taking life far too seriously of late. When we should have been concentrating on the fun bits. Which are delightfully fun. 
So today we decided not to stress so bloomin’ much. A weight lifted. We all smiled. 
And had the most productive day in a loooooooooong time. 
Got lots of reading done. Even understood 
The coffee, it seems, did the job…
But, really. I 
Most of the weekend was wonderful, with a visit from daddy (who came bearing a ridiculous amount of gifts in the form of Jayne’s famous shortbread & petit fours-Words cannot describe 
) and a family (plus Maria) trip out to Sunderland dogs. Where I actually won for once. Bonus. 
But then came Sunday. I was meant to run 14 miles. Only made 8. Bloody cough. So that put me in a bit of a mood. Which was rectified in part by drinks down the pub with daddy and in big part by a certain somebody being adorable to me when I got back home. 
But then came Monday. 
However. I am fighting it. There are 7 of us after all. We won’t all be brought down. 
So I’m doing what Rachey does best: Being strong for other people whilst buckling just ever so slightly. A bit like a rock. But a soft one. Something like limestone. 
Still. Other parts of my life are good. I’m still delighted to be living in Newcastle. Novelty of that hasn’t worn off yet. 
Daddy is coming to visit this weekend. Which always makes me smile. And one specific part of my life is really good. 
I was a 
This time largely thanks to Wonky + husband, who chauffered me to Tesco, chauffered me back home, chauffered me over to their place and then cooked me a delicious roast dinner and wouldn’t allow me to lift a finger. 
And as I was so spoilt this weekend, I thought I didn’t really have any excuse not to come back home this afternoon and go 
Still, I should have a night of cuddles with my boyfriend ahead of me to cheer me up. Oh look. Just typing that has done the job already…
We are so, so, so fortunate to have what we have. I might try moaning a 
It’s early days though and because he reads my blog (when he has nothing better to do), I’m not gonna spout slushy stuff. For now. Give a girl time. 
But I will just say I’m finding it hard, despite shedloads of work and a shitty cough and being behind with my running, to stop smiling lately. 
He kinda ticks every box on most of my selves’ ‘what-we-want-in-a-man’ lists (Tiffany rings aside. Obviously.). And that is no mean feat. 
I think, when my sister chose this house for me to live in, she did good. Really bloody good…
Because, for once, my out-of-office hours are filled with good things. Really, really good things. 
I need to get a grip. So I’m sacking today off, allowing myself one final day of ditziness and indulgence and then tomorrow the studious self is gonna have to take control. 