“I can’t study!”
Cried the skinny Asian dork living on a major road in the middle of a boring suburb who, after graduating on September 25, practically found all motivation for study to be defenestrated. So now he’s sitting on his arse in front of the computer, blogging because Maths is as interesting as the wrong end of a dog (i.e. not at all so) and his entire regime of “I’m going study, from this day forth, for six to eight hours daily, so I do not fail these HSC exams” deflated. Fun, yes?
I stayed up all night (I’ve actually been doing so for the past few days - and who said insomnia wasn’t fun? I got to 106,200 on the Winterbells game), crawled back into bed sometime around midday, and woke up half an hour later to the doorbell ringing and a friend standing on my doorstep whom I haven’t seen in … three(ish) years. In the space of an hour’s walking, we managed to catch up on three years of crap concerning academics, love lives, sports, etc. It’s remarkable, really, how you can condense all your significant memories from three years into an hour. Kind of makes me wish I could get out a little more and have more to brag about. Him: “I got so smashed last weekend. Can’t even remember the amount of times I passed out!” Me: “… I can’t remember the last time I was inebriated, to tell you the truth.”
Methinks I ought to get out more.
Although, with that said, I can’t really “afford” it right now. Why? 1) Because my father, being the lovely outdated cheap-arse that he is, lost his job, so monetary funding is out of the question; and: 2) Because I’m supposedly in dire straits at the moment, as exams are little over two weeks away and I sit here at my ickle little long-suffering desk, day after day, wishing my Biology/Business Studies/Mathematics/English/more English notes would become asexual and do themselves. Although I do finish on November 2, so at least I get … roughly 1/3 of a year off before university starts. And then the “socialising” will begin. Goodbye social ineptitude, hello on-campus societies. Of course, that all depends on if I get into UNSW/university at all, considering I need to kill these exams with my superior fountain of retained knowledge. Heh.
But I digress.
Oh! Because I like talking about the prospect of more academics next year … my university preferences:
- B Arts (Media & Communications) - UNSW
- B Teaching/B Arts (Secondary: Humanities) - ACU
- B Arts/B Education - UNSW
- B Arts (English, Text & Writing) - UWS
- B Communication (Journalism) - UWS
- B Education (Secondary - Humanities and Social Sciences) - USyd
- B Social Work - USyd
Meh. I’m going to change my preferences around in the coming weeks, I foresee a great amount of anal-retentive indecisiveness; adding things in just for the sake of diversity and mild interest, and so forth.
I may start my strict regime of study tomorrow. May. The important thing is, I like to think it’s an ongoing thought somewhere in the background (at least), whilst I watch Troy and avoid analysing it for examples of powerplay. Then again, there’s something hilarious comical about thinking of how Helen dominates … the name will come to me … Paris! (I lied, I looked it up on IMDB.) Powerplay in more ways than one.