So, handed in my essay this morning.

I'd resolved last week to try to spend my time more productively this trimester, seeing that I have 2 papers and a (10,000 word) research paper to complete. I gotta stop wasting time on the bloody internet.

Anyway, I'm almost fully recovered from the shock of discovering people of my cohort in secondary school getting married and popping babies. Almost. It's been stressful - almost more stressful than writing an essay for a topic I can hardly care less about, and almost as stressful as C's feeling about her cousin's wedding.

This being on the threshold of the terrible thirties is a wee bit sucky. 'Twould be nice if I could drink myself to a stupor so I'll not notice my friends' and my crossing it ...