Why It's Okay To Not Have Your Shit Together
I've majorly been neglecting this lil blog for the past few weeks, I'll blame it on a combination of working lots towards the end of summer, starting back at uni (final year, scary huh) and a whole lot of reading already.
That's the downside of studying a course like history, the sheer amount of reading. It may sound obvious but I'm still not used to it and find it incredibly hard to find the willpower sometimes to sit yourself down, stop aimlessly scrolling through Instagram and Twitter, and read. It's not pleasurable reading either - it's heavy and it's complicated and full of theories and narratives that often puzzle my little brain. And it's endless, or so it seems.
There's essential reading, and then there's secondary reading and there's bibliographies full of recommended material and the usual "this is by no means an exhaustive list of reading" written in the course guides just make you feel like you have your shit together just that bit less than you already think you do.
I had visions of my fourth, and final year, being the year I'd have it all together. But already I feel like I'm behind and and muddling my way through, trying to keep on top it all. I've bought a desk, so there's that. And a pencil case, a diary and gold glittery notepads for my courses. This made me feel like my shit was together for about a day, until my boyfriend knocked a glass of juice all over my notepads and now everything is sticky and stained and I'm still finding fragments of smashed glass in my carpet well over a week later. Ideal.
I'd love to be one of those people that has their life so in control. They wake up at 7:30 every day and have breakfast, they do a full face of makeup AND curl their hair, they get a coffee on their way to work and arrive ten minutes early. You know, that type. That mystical type.
I say mystical because a) no one I know actually seems to have their life this together and b) how they actually achieve this is beyond me.
But quite frankly, I think its okay. Wake up later than you planned, shove your hair that probably could do with a wash in a bun, cram your reading for your uni tutorial the night before, have a takeaway every now and again (weekly is a must), get too drunk and spend the next day hating yourself for wasting an entire day in bed, feeling sorry for yourself and the cure to your self pity being only in the form of an extra cheesy Dominos, obviously. It's okay. Your shit is not together and it's okay.
Well, I'm telling myself that anyway. *insert sassy girl emoji*