Grey days of blah

It's certifiably cold. I am certifiably snotty and as for "hitting" the books, it feels more like smacking my head against them. I understand now why they gave us a whole week to read for this assignment... three days to remember how to actually read obtuse cultural theory, two days to squander at the library faking doing work, one day to actually start said work and reading and a final and seventh to realise you need at least another seven if you have any hope of succeeding. Am beginning to regret picking the hardest question simply to make a point to my tutor...


Not all doom and gloom though. Cousin John arrived in town today - bringing sadly not sunshine but news and gossip from home and my purple suede heels. Happy days. A lovely meander through Southwark and Westminster - taking in the tourists taking in the sights. Am looking forward to having him in town this week.

Back to school tomorrow. Hmm. Am sure it will be fine - impending essay notwithstanding but we're off to Germany in two weeks - six days of rabid art interrogation and endless coach travel. Makes Contiki sound like a genteel stroll through the English countryside... Am sure it will be amazing but in truth I am exhausted and, after my masochistic episode trawling through photos of Bondi this morning, I am yearning more than ever the arrival of Christmas and a month long sojourn in the warmth and dazzling light of a sunny Sydney summer . Because this kind of grey....


looks good on no-one.

The cold, the pouring rain - these things I don't mind - it's the heavy bleakness of the sky I find so debilitating - though to be fair there have been occasional bouts of blue. But the clocks change next Sunday so the days are about to shrink considerably. Waaa-aaaa-aaaaaah.

So yes. The honeymoon period is probably over. And it's a funny sort of limbo I find myself in now - not quite connected to the ongoings of life in Sydney but yet to really find myself with a routine or recognisable life here in London. Key word being "yet" I suppose. School - despite the whinging - is definately a salve and I am looking forward to returning to London bronzed and relaxed post-Sydney summer to tackle next semester so that has to bode well as far as signs go.

Now if only I could write this essay.... anyone for the 'absent brushmark' in painting c.1960s?