*click* *click* *click* you give me fever.
Do you ever have those days when things just… ‘click’?
I started the day in a horrible mood, I’ll admit that. Yesterday’s blog was a reply to a friend who had written to me concerned/a little disgusted about my few posts previous to that, and… well… I don’t think I exactly hid my thoughts on his thoughts in my rather boisterous reply. My apologies if you’re reading this – unconsciously, I don’t respond very well to what my brain perceives as being a lecture.
Anywho, as I do every Wednesday, (well, most of them) last night, I attended ‘The Foundations of Modern Psychology’, my Wednesday class.
I’m really struggling with being a student again; something not helped by the pressure I am heaping upon myself upon to be a resounding success. (In truth, this has been further exacerbated by my teacher’s requirements for passing this particular course – ‘a pulse’) I find sitting and reading very difficult, and have realised that in reality, trying to shoulder two classes in one go and not re-introducing myself to the world of studentry (if I can invent a word for a moment) slowly is akin to picking up a tennis racket for the first time in fifteen years and playing a match against Roger Federer.
I am not at all concerned with passing, as I know, ultimately, I will. However, being that the requirements to pass this particular course are ‘turn up, breathe, write an essay’, a simple passing grade doesn’t really cut with me mentally.
But the classes. Oh man… I FUCKING LOVE the classes. I don’t care if I am wrong are right when I offer answer or argument, (post-Hoffman behaviour alert!) I just love the mental exercise of getting my head around seriously complex ideas and theories, and offering opinion or thought. The two hours simply FLY by – though this is probably because it’s really the only time in the week – apart from my Thursday class – where I actually use my brain. Lord knows, I certainly don’t at work!
I left class almost high with happiness, utterly enthralled and engaged with the previous 2 hours. I got home, emailed my current favourite person in the world, and, in my mental utopia, filled my iPod with 80’s rock music, and went on a buying spree of songs I hadn’t heard in an absolute age, and seem to have lost somewhere along the way – songs like ‘Girls, Girls, Girls’ by Motley Crue, ‘More Than This’ by Roxy Music, ‘Rebel Yell’ by Billy Idol, and this piece of truly great 1980’s rock/pop:
Aside from the odd dream about my past indiscretions, I never dream – or at least, I don’t remember them. But last night, I think I mentally fell into place, and I dreamt the entirety of my essay – the structure, how to start it, everything – it was so clear to me, and so vivid, that as I stood in the shower this morning, I was still reciting the introduction to myself.
I walk this morning with a spring in my step, and the sounds of Journey, Van Halen, and Poison rocking my ears off on the tube.
Have a fucking outstanding day, world.
Lots of love,
Closed Box
Ps – Hi Michelle! And hi, of course, to my dear friend Elaine xx
