Afflicted with uni assignment anxiety. To the point physical symptoms are plaguing me. I have an English essay on imagery due on Friday … only a 500-worder, but probably worse because of that. How’s that TS Eliot quote go “If I had more time, I would have written a shorter letter?” Yeah. Harder to write short than long. So much imagery, so little words allowed. And, music, a what-looked-like-small assignment that’s driving me mad. An analysis of a Scottish jig. And two tunes to compose (which I haven’t started but they aren’t worrying me that much). So here I am, procrastinating.

My inner wild and wise woman told me last semester “have fun with it”. That is to say, when last semester’s assignment-panic arose I meditated, doing more of a creative visualisation than a proper Buddhist meditation. I went to my ‘temple’ and my special ‘guide’, who presented itself as a carefree wild woman, told me to have fun with it when I asked advice on ‘it’. Sounds incredibly new-agey and ridiculous, but really it was just the wiser inner part of myself giving myself advice, and it was good advice. I should remember that now. So, I’ve put on my gorgeous little marquasite (totemic) dragonfly pendant (Spinsterhood: When You Will Forever More Buy Your Own Jewellery).

I also have to find time somewhere to do housework because my little film society is meeting here on Saturday night. My pick this time, so it’s Fantastic Planet, a surreal and beautiful psychedelic-era animated movie.

Ah the conflicted part. Hm, maybe not so much. I don’t know. Nothing left to say, really, beyond social niceties which well all know I find superficial ‘lies’, so to speak. Feelings … meh … shrug … it’s all devoid of anything really. Dry and dusty. Crumbling and dying. Yes, there is a little lingering sadness, but at least the heartbreak is gone.

And Dear Summer, excuse me, but could you please let autumn get a look in?