George Orwell. Well said.

School tomorrow. On some level, I am looking forward. True blue nerd in that sense...On some other level, dreading it. Oh well.

But really. So many days at home... I think school might be good for me. I haven't stepped out of the neighbourhood in days.

Here's what I've been doing the past "break" from school:
0700: My body alarm clock forbids sleep beyond this time. So I get up and breakfast.

0800: Onto work.

1230: Lunch! And either Gossip Girl/ ANTM/ Project Runway. (Sighs Grey's and Desperate Housewives are making a return. I fear greatly for my A level results...)

1330: Back to work.

1730: If I feel healthy, I'd jog. If I don't, I do more work.

2045: Dinnerrrr.

2200: Whining to my sister about my horribly slow work rate. (And she whines back about her work as a receptionist. It's a mutually beneficial arrangement.)

Somewhere 2300 ++: I doze off on her bed...

... and wake up at 7 again.

What have I been working on you ask: My bloody research papers. The good news is, they're really more or less done. Somehow, I don't feel as glad/ accomplished as I thought I would. Perhaps I'm tired. I'm simply relieved. I can't wait to return to normal mugging and panicking for A levels. I feel a certain homecoming (which is disturbing. Yes I know. Will get a life outside my notes on Nov 19.).

Oh. And the not so small reminder that... I have to do mock-Oxford interviews with Cook. I think mock is used as a verb here. As in, him mocking the rest of us mere mortals. Dieeeeeeeee. I know it'll be humiliating. But I know I need it.

For Oxford.(insert expression of grim determination.)

And now, I know, the real struggle begins. The last lap of mugging.

Dante puts it real succintly:
"All hope abandon
Ye who enter here."