G is for…

GARDEN!

I have utilised two of my recent blogging themes today (Trying To Be Useful and AtoZ) to tell you about the latest exciting developments in my garden.

Simon Gear, in Going Greener, told me to start a compost heap, which I love the idea of and have been meaning to do for ages anyway. Then my Abel and Cole deliveries started and there were little hints in their booklet, of what to recycle etc. One of the things they mentioned was composting. So it seemed like I was being nudged into finally actually doing it and I took the plunge and started searching around online for a good composting option.

Before long, I came across the Wiggly Wigglers and started to get excited. I’d heard about composting by using worms and on this site, I found a starter kit for £32 which would get me started on using worms to make compost out of my old scraps of food waste.

The basic principle is this. I put my old food in the top, the worms eat the old food, the worms do a poo, the poo is compost that I can use in my garden, to grow my tomatoes and herbs and chillies.

It’s like having a small farm containing only worms in a bin, kind of. So just the worms. And no other animals. And no eggs or milk. Just the compost. So sort of like a small farm. Sort of.

My next garden-related challenge from Simon Gear was a challenge to grow my own veggies. Now, the tomatoes, herbs and chillies are a standard summer installation in the garden so I decided to expand a little more, to step out of my gardening comfort zone.

A friend recently told me about a grow-your-own oyster mushroom farm thing so I checked it out again and decided it fitted well with my instructions and have ordered one. The idea goes something like this – soak a paperback book in water, scatter the mushroom seeds inbetween the pages, put it in the bag they send with the seeds, leave it on a windowsill, watch your mushrooms grow. Apparently I will get about three crops from it.

Books and mushrooms, what’s not to love?!

I shall report back on both the worm farm and the mushrooms. They are due to arrive in the post any day now. Oo, you should get some too! Then we can compare notes on how our baby worms are doing, like mothers in the playground.

P. S. Following on from previous posts, I have not been to a supermarket for 12 days. So for 12 days, I have only bought or eaten food that was grown locally, by people who I have taken the time to do some research about. It feels great. I have also not taken a bath, since I was told to shower instead.

Showering and shopping

Yesterday, I was having a working-from-home day. There’s a lot to be said for staying at home in your jarmies to work. But I also had my instructions from Simon Gear to follow. He had asked two things from me in his book, Going Greener.

Eat fresh fruit in season to avoid the air miles, flying things across the globe so I can eat it all year round.

Shower rather than bath to save on water.

I adapted the first one slightly, given that I was looking for vegetables, not fruit. But the message was the same. Buy as locally as possible to avoid the air miles, one of the most environmentally-damaging things I probably take part in, on a day to day basis.

I decided that, actually, I would shop entirely British for eveything I needed for my planned cottage pie. So I approached the vegetable section. I needed tomatoes, carrots, potatoes and herbs.

Well, I almost gave up on the tomatoes and the herbs! All the tomatoes were from Portugal and Spain. After searching all through the different varieties, I found one variety of vine tomatoes that was grown in Britain. Phew! The cottage pie could make a start.

The herbs were from everywhere but Britain. Jordan, Egypt, Spain, Morocco, Mexico… Nothing. As I wandered off, I saw pots of herbs with little British flags printed on their labels! Hurrah! My cottage pie could have flavour! I got myself some thyme and some chives and suddenly, the world of reducing my air miles and shopping British smelled fabulous!

Next was potatoes and these weren’t hard to find. The carrots were also British, not too much trouble there.

I didn’t need mushrooms but in my excitement that so many of them were British, I got some anyway.

I learned, at this point, that lots of vegetables are from Israel. The other British ones I saw were chicory and lettuce, neither of which I needed but will keep in mind.

The beef mince was easy enough because the nice stuff in Waitrose happens to be British beef so no compromises needed there.

Getting cereal bars was fine because I know Jordans is a British company but a surprising amount were from America.

I wanted to pick up some tupperware to keep left over cottage pie in (another instruction from Simon Gear is to freeze down individual portions for emergencies then you never end up eating rubbish takeaway or bowls of icecream for dinner) but the tupperware was made in Vietnam so that was out.

I must say, it was a bit of a faff checking the small print on everything I bought but I felt sooo much better leaving the shop and knowing I’d made the effort to reduce my personal environmental impact. I also didn’t wrap my vegetables in plastic and I brought my own bags to pack my shopping in.

And now for the second challenge. This one, I knew, would be more of a mental hurdle than anything else, due to the simple fact that when it is cold and wintery, I like to have a hot bath and listen to an audiobook and pretend I am a lady of leisure.

As Simon rightly points out in his book however, when taking a bath, you use more than twice the water of a shower and, disgustingly, all the dirt that was on your feet ends up in your hair, and vice versa. Now I know this, of course I know it. But I like to pretend I don’t, due to the lady of leisure thing already mentioned.

Yesterday, despite the current cold snap and flurries of snow, I resolved to stop being a water-hog (one who hogs water, not a pig who lives in a river) and get a shower instead.

I put the plug in, to test the theory about how much less water it uses, turned it on hot and danced around a bit to some music to stay warm. After a few minutes, I could stop dancing and just enjoy it because it was quite nice actually. The cold from outside was like a test of strength. If I was tough enough to handle the cold, I could do anything!

At the end of my shower, which took 5 minutes instead of the requisite 30 for my lounging around bath sessions, the water was only just approaching my ankles. It was barely a tenth of what I use for a bath. I felt great, tinged with guilt for all the other times when I had bathed instead of showering.

And that was that! Two more boxes ticked on my quest to become more useful!

Armchair activism…

Yesterday, I was back on the useful thing with a vengeance, so much so that I did about four useful things in one day! I know, I know, I’m so selfless. Four useful things in one day. Yes, that’s right. Four. I’ll be round to do autographs later. Let me tell you what they were.

Wear your heart on your wrist – order a bracelet from Doctors Without Borders
(The Difference A Day Makes by Karen M. Jones)

Let your mouse save a child – visit a website which creates sponsorship through advertiser donations
(The Difference A Day Makes by Karen M. Jones)

Meditate – to improve your mental wellbeing and your dedication to the other tasks in the book
(Going Greener by Simon Gear)

The thing with both of these books, and I knew I was going to have to confront this at some point, is that they are quite country-specific. Karen M. Jones is US-based and Simon Gear is in South Africa. Maybe, to give me a little more to do, I should look for a UK based one. Anyway, my first task was to look up Doctors Without Borders. Having the books on Kindle is great as the website addresses come up as links and I can just click on them – the laziest form of activism, yes I know. So when I clicked on the DWB link, it was an American website. I looked for the bracelet but needed a US address. I decided maybe a donation would be best. It was all in dollars and needed a zip code from me.

Then I saw a little button asking if I wanted to donate from outside America. Yes, please. Click! And I went to the UK site of Medicins Sans Frontieres. I hadn’t realised DWB was the US branch of MSF. I’ve always had good feelings about most of these ‘without borders’ organisations so got stuck into the website and found an easy way to donate by texting 70070 with the letters DOCS01 and an amount.

Easy! I’d like to think that I will train as a doctor and go out and save small children from terrible diseases but the truth is I probably won’t. There are people who have done it and are good at it. So for now, until I complete my degree in medicine with flying colours (any minute now), the best way I can help is by funding their work.

One quick text later and I was all done. First box ticked!

Second one. I was told to visit thechildhealthsite.com and click on things a bit. The sponsors who have adverts on the site will give money to different projects and charities that support healthcare for children. In the tabs at the top there are all different causes you can help simply by clicking. So I got a little click-crazy. I clicked to help the rainforests, improve literacy and stop hunger.

I’m steadily starting to understand the phrase ‘armchair activist.’

Lastly, I was advised by Simon Gear to take twenty minutes each day to meditate, without which, my dedication to my world-saving cause might suffer. So, thought I, I will do this. I will meditate my way to heroicism.

I made sure I was sitting comfortably. I set an alarm for twenty minutes away as checking the clock might disturb my deep and meaningful meditation session.

I closed my eyes… And cleared my thoughts out…. Sort of. A few crept in. I made a mental shopping list to ensure I wouldn’t forget anything. I worked out how many hours there were until I needed to be in work. I wondered if the rain would stop so I could go for a walk. Then I cleared my mind and tried again.

This time was more successful. I enjoyed this second attempt at meditation, although some people (not me), might say that that’s because it strongly resembled what most consider ‘sleeping.’ I was startled awake by the alarm… I mean, I was already awake.

I think meditation is something I’ll need to work on.

And the fourth thing, what about the fourth thing, you’re all wondering.

Well, I went shopping and bought environmentally friendly softener for washing my clothes. I also didn’t wrap my vegetables in plastic bags. I just weighed them and stuck the sticker straight on. Check me out, I’m such a rebel.

Here endeth the world saving for another day.

You clap. I bow.

A day off

The house is silent. There are no more excuses to be made. It’s time un-Christmas-ify.

I’m looking at some shoes strewn about, odd socks lying haphazardly on the floor, little piles of things to take out to the recycling and leftover Christmas cards. I know the kitchen needs tidying up from my latest adventures last night with Michel Roux Sr. I need to book train tickets to see a friend next weekend and I have letters to friends abroad that I must reply to. There are clothes in the wash basket which need washing and drying and I guess I should take down our two Christmas trees. That will take ten seconds as one is a picture of a tree and the other is a mini tree about as long as my forearm.

But let me tell you about the other potential activities I could fill my day off with. I’m very tempted by having a cup of tea and reading Narnia. I’m equally tempted by the lure of shopping. Nothing major. I just need some new muslin cloths and tupperware. And possibly a steam cooker thing as I don’t have one and Michel Roux keeps telling me to use one. It’s hindering my culinary adventures. I would also like to go for a long walk and finish listening to the audiobook of The Casual Vacancy by J. K. Rowling which, by the way, I am loving.

It’s a difficult decision to make. What to do with my day….

While I decide, I will just make a cup of tea and read Narnia a little…. Just a little….

Getting festive

Yesterday, my childhood friend and I decided to go to Westfield shopping centre. If this name doesn’t mean anything to you, imagine the hugest most enormous building in the world, full of shops and restaurants. I think it’s the biggest one in Europe or something. We made a plan to go there and sort out a few Christmas presents. I also kind of thought I’d keep an eye out for a nice outfit for Christmas day and maybe some new shoes as a few pairs are starting to look a bit scrappy.

Remember this: I was looking for a Christmas day outfit, shoes and some presents.

My friend’s agenda was something like this: new warm winter coat, smart clothes for work-related placement, Christmas presents for family.

We entered the foray and started our shopping expedition. We went into shop after shop, looking for warm coats. I kept an eye out for a nice dress for Christmas Day. There’s just one problem though…. I am a different person in my head than I am in real life, when it comes to clothes.

In my head, I’m edgy and cool, my style is very All Saints and when I pass people in the street, they wonder how they will ever be as cool and fashionable as me. I’d describe my look as ‘off-duty supermodel’ if asked. I’ve got beach-babe tousled hair and ooze effortlessness and cool, while being au naturel and fabulous.

….In real life, however…. I’m more non-descript. I wear neutral clothes for work – jeans and t-shirts mostly. So even when I have a day off, out come the jeans and t-shirts anyway. I think I own make-up, god knows where it might be though. There are also some high heels somewhere in a cupboard, I think. I’m quite flat-footed though, so don’t really wear them for long before I’m dying to take them off. I live in my Crocs whilst at work, which no supermodel, not even an off duty one, would ever wear. My hair could be described as tousled-beach-babe but if I’m honest, it’s more unbrushed-and-trying-to-turn-into-dreads. And in desperate need of a cut, which I’m too lazy to go and get. I wear dresses quite often but they’re the casual stretchy summery dresses that you team up with leggings and boots, not the elegant ladylike dresses that, in my head, I look so great in….

Hence, there is an issue when shopping. The me in my head looks fab in floor-length bejewelled gowns are beautiful and head-turning. The me in real life looks like a little squat dwarf in them as I’m FAR too short and look totally lost inside such long dresses. So as I wandered around oohing and aahing at the lovely dresses, I didn’t find anything I could actually wear, just what I thought I might be able wear when my moment of ‘cool’ kicks in. I’ve been waiting 27 years for it to happen so it’s bound to be any minute now.

I loved the plum-coloured fitted dress which looked like it would really compliment my body, if it weren’t for the 10inch lumpy tummy scar from my operation that shows through tight tops.

I loved the knee high brown leather boots that looked like they belonged on a horse farm, if it weren’t for the fact that I couldn’t pull them further than my chunky little mid calves.

And so it went on, for hours – me spotting things that would perfectly compliment the imagined me, but which didn’t suit or fit the real me. Things that would suit the real me were boring so I didn’t look at them.

We stopped for a food break halfway round and discussed a game plan. We remembered that I was looking for shoes, a dress and presents. She was looking for a coat, smart clothes and presents.

When we were on the move again, we made real efforts to find things. We walked. And we walked. And we walked. For about three and a half hours in total.

The result? My friend bought a jumper and some warm leggings. I bought a Christmas jumper and a leather jacket, because I’ve never owned one and it was more than 50% off the original price, bringing into my financial sights.

I’m not quite sure whether I’d consider this trip a success….. But I do LOVE my jumper.

The reality (?) of mobile phones

It’s my guest blogger’s turn to take over today. Enjoy!

 

Last week I went to the supermarket. Nothing strange in that except what should have been a straightforward, weekly event for me turned into a nightmare. How so?

Let’s begin with the car journey: it’s less than 1 mile. There is one set of traffic lights on the route. It is red when I get there. I’m second in the queue. I wait, like everyone else. Light goes amber then green, outside lane moves off, my lane doesn’t. As I look at the driver in front, the person has a mobile phone held to their ear and is obviously not paying attention to the traffic lights. After a couple of seconds I beep my horn and they wake up and start driving. I’m not convinced they finished the call but at least they put the phone down.

Now I’m approaching the supermarket entrance. A lady is walking back and to and side-to-side on the pavement. She is actually shouting and doesn’t see me trying to get past. As she turns round I see she is on the phone. She is having an argument in raised tones. She is telling the person on the other end: “You get out of my house RIGHT NOW!!” and this is followed by words I can only represent by ******* being said many times. She is blocking the pavement and I have to walk into the road to get around her so I can get to the trolley area. That’s two mobile obsessed people and I haven’t even got in the door yet!

I have a list. I grab my trolley and move quickly inside. I know exactly where I’m going and which aisles I need to be in. I speed through the first three aisles grabbing everything I need. I turn the corner into aisle 4 and, as I make my way down to the shelf I need, I see a problem. I can’t get to it. There is a person talking on their mobile phone but holding their trolley at right angles to the shelves so it is actually blocking the aisle. Why do people do that? I can’t get past. I wait a bit but no reaction.

Time for tactic no.2 – crash, apparently accidentally, into said trolley pretending to be looking the other way. Person looks round and moves trolley out of the way. They don’t stop the phone conversation. I carry on. Soon I’m at the last aisle and heading for the freezers as my last stop. I finish there in just a couple of mins with the items on my list going swiftly into the trolley. Time for the checkout. My bags which I’m going to re-use to collect my green points on to the loyalty card are ready, my bank card is ready, money off vouchers are ready. This supermarket has 15 checkouts but on a Monday morning at opening time (8.00am) they have only one or two with staff. Today it’s one but fortunately for me only one person is in the queue. It’s 8.25 and I’m doing well and should make it back home before the roads get clogged with school traffic which they will by about 8.40am. The person in front begins to unload their trolley and then I hear this ringing noise. Yep you’ve guessed it – their mobile phone! Now if I’m emptying my trolley onto a supermarket checkout belt answering the phone is simply a non-starter. I’ll get to the call later. (Just like if I’m talking to someone face-to-face and my phone rings, I don’t answer. That person is who I’m giving my attention to and I would consider it rude of me to just expect them to wait while I answer a call.)

However I’m not this person and they answer the call and then carry on a discussion while trying to put all their stuff onto the belt. Not surprisingly they now start moving more slowly so they can concentrate on what is being said. The fact that there is a person standing behind seems to be of no importance to them. Then they proceed to stack the trolley with the checked items from the cashier one-handed! The conversation goes on. It’s payment time and now out comes the purse, again one-handed, and then much fumbling through to find the right card to pay. Did they apologise for holding me up? What do you think? Oh well. Finally I get out and to the road near my house. I’m just too late to beat the standing traffic. The tailbacks are caused because there are two lollipop ladies, who are of just a few hundred yards apart on this road, who help children to cross safely. Of course it’s not them I’m complaining about. It’s their job to help the kids over the road and if they weren’t there the kids wouldn’t be able to get to the school. So there it is.

I’d been out of the house for less than 1 hour and FOUR yes 4 people had thought their phone calls were more important than letting the world go about its business in an unobstructed way. Let’s be honest – the calls weren’t that important. Not one of them was an emergency call. No-one dropped their bags and ran to the hospital or drove round the next corner on two wheels. Even the lady telling the person to get out of her house stayed where she was. Going shopping shouldn’t be that hard should it? But that day it was.

I’m sure you’ve all got examples of how people get so wrapped up in their phones that they don’t realise what’s going on around them. That’s why there was a question mark behind the word “reality” in the title of today’s post. I really do wonder, when answering their mobiles, if people actually just go into a different world – a mobile world. It’s a world which says, “Look at me, what I’m doing is more important than anything you folks in the real world want to do. You’ll have to wait because I’m on my phone!!” (Maybe for some it’s even a case of “I know it will wind you up if I take this call so I’ll take it in order to wind you up!”)

Most of the time it’s not a problem but there are a number of cases where accidents, sometimes fatal, have been caused by people using mobile phones inappropriately. Honestly would you want to be responsible for something like that. Of course you wouldn’t. And that’s what I tell myself every time the phone rings when I’m driving. Leave it. Get to it later when I stop or pull over if I think it’s something I have to deal with there and then.

I’ve been having a few thoughts in this direction and will run them by you next week. I think I may be onto something.

A reflection on my week of swimming

I have noticed some things, both external and internal, about myself since I started swimming.

My body has had a reaction to the regular wetting and drying by giving me dry skin. I have reacted by always having on me moisturisers and nice face and body washes.

My shoulders, which were quite achy after introducing back stroke, have adapted quite well and no longer feel like they are going to drop off whenever I leave the pool. I am a bit worried about getting muscly shoulders and arms, though. We all saw what happened to Madonna’s arms when she became a yoga freak and I just don’t feel that it’s a good look.

Now, it’s nice to be presentable but most women, like me, will probably let their legs go a bit hairier than is socially acceptable before shaving unless there’s a chance they’ll be getting them out for some reason, to wear a dress, for example. Because I have been going swimming every day, there is no rest period for the legs, they must be presentable all the time. For someone who’s quite lazy, it’s a bit of a shock to the system.

My hair isn’t so sure about the whole getting-wet-every-day thing. I put a bit of conditioner on when I shower afterwards but because it’s getting wet every day, I forget which days it needs it’s proper wash on. It also has become more frizzy in general. I think I will get a swimming cap soon.

I’ve also noticed about myself, that I’m not very interactive when I exercise. When I used to cycle everywhere, I didn’t watch the Tour de France with bated breath or ask other friends who cycle to come on a ride with me. And it’s the same with swimming. I’m not that interested in chatting to my fellow swimmers in the shower about the heating in the outdoor pool or how great my session was. Nor will I be putting a Tom Daly (is that his name? The swimming boy?) poster on my wall. I just want to swim, thank you. Does this say something about me? That I’m more interested in myself than other people?

I also don’t know what the big deal about wearing a swimming costume was. I didn’t wear one for years because I was pretty horrified at the idea of being so undressed in public. But now I just throw it on and go.

I’m also very exact about how I do things. When I swim, I make sure I’m doing it properly, I watch other people who are doing it properly and copy them exactly. I’m constantly thinking about every bit of my body when I swim, my arms, where I’m looking, how I’m kicking my legs, how my body is sitting in the water. That’s why I can’t understand when other people don’t swim properly. Back stroke is the most misused stroke I’ve seen so far. People just flinging their arms backward in any old fashion and making an almighty riot about it. Even when I go shopping, I’m very precise about how I walk around the shop, I don’t just head to one place and grab stuff. I go up and down each aisle in the shop, starting at the veg section, missing out the freezer section, and finishing at the cleaning products. When I’m in work it’s the same, everything has a certain place and my equilibrium is all off if things are out of place.

Is there a secret child with OCD hiding inside me? I’m doubting my sanity after admitting how I shop.

So anyway, that’s what my week of swimming has done for me. It’s been great actually. I feel a lot fitter. And my bingo wings are a little less flab and a little more firm. I’m going to keep it up, I think. Not every day but maybe every other day.

Best revision method yet

There a billions of cases to remember and I got in the habit of making up little stories to try and remember the names and it really works. The sillier the story, the more likely I am to remember it. I’ll give you some examples without looking at my notes…

Wayne Rooney on the phone = R v Wain
A case where a guy did a telethon to raise money then gave cheques to the charity for the amount and they bounced and he had spent the money that was raised. Convicted of theft.

Lloyd Grossman on TV = R v Lloyd
Theft of films from a cinema by a person who worked there. He brought them back so he wasn’t said to have the intention to permanently deprive. No theft.

“Chill, man” = Chan Man-Sin v Attorney General for Hong Kong
As in “Chill, man, I thought the bank would give you the money back.” This one was a real stretch of my imagination! Guy wrote cheques and withdrew money on company’s overdrafts. He said it wasn’t an intention to permanently deprive because he knew the banks would refund the money when they found out it had been stolen. Convicted of theft.

It’s cloudin’ over, must get supplies from Waitrose = R v Clouden
Another stretch. This is for robbery – force can be applied to property, it doesn’t need to be against the person. In this case the person’s shopping bag was snatched. Shopping, Waitrose, cloudin’ over, see what I did?

The Scarlet Pimpernel is always the goodie so must be in self-defence = R v Scarlet
From this case, we get the legal principle that if acting in self defence there is no crime.

Living in a caravan’s not very classy = R v Klass
In this case, the burglars forced the door of a caravan with poles but entered the caravan without them to steal. No aggravated burglary, no weapons at time of entry.

Addams Family running a shop = R v Gomez
Defendant worked in a shop, bought some things with cheques which bounced, convicted of theft.

It’s dangerous in church = R v Church
The test for dangerousness in unlawful act manslaughter.

Franklin the tortoise wouldn’t be naughty (he’s a character in a children’s book) = R v Franklin
No crime = no unlawful act manslaughter.

Hopefully I don’t start laughing in the exam from the silliness of the stories I’ve made up to remember things. Last exam today! Wish me luck!

I solemnly swear to tidy up the front living room when my exams are finished. And to do the dishes. And to wear clothes instead of jarmies. And to cook. And to stop living off crackers. And to stop drinking instant coffee. And to exercise. And to put all my law books in one box so they are not on every single surface.

E is for…

EVERY DAY!

These are the things I do every day.

Drink tea x 10000
Yoga
Blog
Bake
Food shop
Walk
Watch TV
Check phone x 10000
Think about how soon my exams are
Look at my pile of textbooks (I don’t mean, looking at the words on the page, I mean looking at the pile, then looking away again)

‘Baking every day?’ you might say. ‘EVERY day?’ Well, yes. I find a way, don’t you worry. Things always need making. Last week I made (are you ready?) banana bread x 2, raspberry marshmallows, plum jam, baklava, an Easter egg, fruity nutty snack bars, vanilla and goji berry muffins x 4, two loaves of bread (one I turned into breadcrumbs) and then all the stuff I ate for my normal meals. I don’t usually eat any of the cakey stuff I make so that’s not my actual calorie intake, in case you’re thinking I must be really hungry all the time!

I like to feed people. I’m definitely a feeder. I like to give people things I’ve made but then there’s the nervousness in case they don’t like it but they’re too polite to say. So there’s the worry and the ‘Is it ok? Are you sure? Is it tasty? It’s ok if it’s not. Did I overcook it? Undercook it? Are there too many nuts in it? Not enough nuts? Are you sure it’s tasty?’

Linked in with that is food shopping. Yes I do that thing everyone does, a big massive shop every few days or every week or something, so why do I need to go every day? Because I like it! I like going through the slidey doors and the cool air welcomes you in and you just walk around, amongst all the food, and feel nice. I wander up and down the jam section, getting ideas for new flavours to experiment with. I potter around the fruit section, seeing if there are any offers on, planning my next baking adventure. I go to the bread and cake section, stealing ideas again. Then to the baking aisle and debate whether the 500 eggs in my fridge are enough or whether I need 6 more. Survey the tea selection. Then I end up at the cookbook section, sneakily reading them cover to cover. Then I emerge back into the sunlight, an hour later, empty handed but feeling wonderful. Sometimes that’s all I need. I’ve had my kick.

Watching TV every day. You know, I couldn’t even tell you what I’ve watched recently. It’s such a mindless activity. And so much time gets absorbed into it. It’s probably the most useless ‘every day’ thing I do. When I’m a bit knackered from work I settle down on the sofa with a cup of tea and stare at it but it’s not really like I’m watching it, I’m in some sort of trance and the TV happens to be there, keeping me company.

I’m not even going to start on ‘think about how soon my exams are’ and ‘look at my pile of textbooks.’ I worked hard all year actually, so it’s not like I’m really intimidated by it. I think it will be fine. It’s just doing it, getting started on the revision. I will. Soon.