The Last Weekend

Nothing in the world hurts more than losing a week of your life. It only really happens when you're on holiday and more often than not you can get away with if for a fortnight or so. The only problem is that when those weeks are invaluable to you, their passing hurts more than your team losing the Champions League final - well almost! I'm probably one of the worst for this as well and now I stand at the edge of a two week run until my first exam with 'the fear' well and truly flowing through my veins. It took me until last week's break away by the beach to finally kick myself into gear. If I hadn't been away then I think I would be very close to being depressed which makes me understand, more than ever, why people go on holiday - we really need them or we risk losing the plot. So I got back from my week away in the lovely spring sunshine with a new found confidence and something that felt like motivation too. It was for this very reason why I treated myself with a weekend of gluttony. Now I'm at the other side of that how does it feel? I'm I just back where I started or have I finally turned the corner and climbed aboard the motivation express, next stop exams? I'm not sure yet.

You know what it's like when you get back from a week away from home: every thing seems fresh and the familiarity brings with it a sense of renewed happiness. I've had many weeks away in my life and they've all brought the same (or similar) kind of results. I had every confidence that last week was going to do the same for me at a tough time and it really did. When I got back I went straight out to play football for a while and then proceeded on a 3 day splurge of alcohol consumption and junk food eating, safe in the knowledge that it was the last time that I was going to get to do it for a while - let's just say I made the most of it. I come out of the other side without having one bad hangover but a slightly bigger waist. I also got to spend 3 days in a row with people that are all heading back to their respective academic establishments over the next week; everyone is going 'home', as it had become. I'm always wary of making things sound better than they are but I might go as far to say that the weekend was near enough perfect - thanks everyone!

The only problem (if you can call it that) is that it's done now and the reality hit home again pretty hard this morning. To give me my due, I did get up (a little later than I planned) and got a fair amount of revision done before heading out for a 'clear the head' jog - it worked pretty well but I've got a long way to go. I'm not scared by the prospect of revision usually but the task facing me looks a little like a half-chewed arm: absolutely disgusting, pretty untidy and will take a long, long time to heal. I'm not quite sure where that marvelous piece of figurative language came from but just to continue it, this revision is certainly something that I wouldn't high-five; not that I could anyway! It's quite incredible what's going on in my head just now; if only I could invite you all to the show.

Anyway that's enough of me moaning again about revision. Something that is going to help me over the next few weeks is the knowledge of how much of a good time I can have of a weekend with friends. When the pressure is off I'll do it again but for now, the weekend that juts passed was the last one I'm going to have for quite a while. 

Thanks for reading folks,

Martin