The Twelve-Week Challenge: Day 22

Last night I was talking to one of my friends on Skype, who happens to be a fellow blogger.  “Are you still torturing yourself with that twelve-week blog?” he asked me.

The reply was, of course, yes.  At times I do ask myself why on earth I challenged myself to write a blog a day during one of the most stressful times of my life.  Although considering I’ve not missed a blog yet (albeit there were a few late ones, but if you knew me, you wouldn’t be surprised at that), I think it’s been a pretty good challenge to do.  It would be very easy for me to get to the end of every day and not think about what I’ve achieved, or, what I haven’t achieved that day.  But this challenge has been good because forcing myself to reflect on what I have or haven’t done, means that I get to either pat myself on the back, or waggle a finger at myself and tell myself to get my arse in gear.

After yesterday’s blog, I sent off another job application.  It had been on my To Do list for a while, and I’m glad I got it sent off in time.  Today I have done some more research into jobs abroad, which has actually led me to find some more jobs to apply for in London.

The problem I’m having is that I’m still not quite sure where I want to be when I finish uni.  I hate living in England, mainly because of the weather.  Today was a sunny day, but still cold.  If we had a summer that started in April and was continuous through to September, and let me be specific – by summer I mean sunny AND warm – then I could probably cope with that, but even the warm spells are few and far between, and you can’t plan anything.  Not knowing what the weather is like from day-to-day just doesn’t suit me.  I want to know that it’s going to be sunny and warm every day.  Sadly, there is not one spot of the British Isles where this is the case, so, I need to look further afield.  My passport allows me to move within the EU, but obviously in most cases there is a language barrier, and these countries do seem to have a different way of life to the English-speaking ones.  Hence why Europe has never really appealed to me to as an alternative location to live.

The where-shall-I-move-to-question however is not just dependent on me.  I’ve mentioned this in my blog before, but I have a cat, Harry.  He’s twelve and a half years old, and I’ve had him since he’s a baby.  He’s pretty high maintenance (like his mother) and he depends on me; also, I depend on him.  Of course I get annoyed at him for waking me up at the ungodly hours that he does; living in rented accommodation does cause its own problems when you cannot just go ahead and put in a cat flap.  But I don’t know if I can leave him.  I never wanted to be one of those people who says they couldn’t do this or couldn’t do that because of their pets, but I really don’t know if I can leave him now.  Last weekend before I went to Whitby for the weekend, he knew the night before that something was afoot.  In the morning he wouldn’t settle and when I tried to put him outside to do his business before I left, he downright refused, and sat on my bed while scowling at me.  Next weekend I shall be away again, and I daren’t tell him I’m going away again!  Somebody asked me if I would go abroad if I didn’t have him; the truth is, yes I probably would.  But while part of me wants to go somewhere the sun shines year round, I don’t know if that is the best way to move forward with my career.  I’ve never had “a career” before.  I’ve had jobs but never anything that felt that important to me.  After the uncertainty of the last few years, I want to get a job, have some money coming in, a place to live.  I want to be settled.  I guess that’s why part of me feels like moving to London would be the right choice, because I could focus on all of those things, and Harry could come with me.  I’m not sure how much choice there will be for house shares/bedsits for people with pets, but I figure it can’t be that hard to find somewhere.  I guess ideally I would move somewhere hot, where Haribo could come with me, and I’d have my dream job in publishing.  But I know the chances of that are slim, if not completely unrealistic.

Sigh.  I seem to have gone off on a tangent here, so I’ll continue with the blog in hand.  I’ve done no uni work today; mainly for the reason that I’ve not felt too well.  I slept in until around 11am, had something to eat (a student’s breakfast of Diet Coke, a lemon bakewell and some digestive biscuits) then went to the shops and the supermarket with my housemates.  Not long after being out, I started to get backache, accompanied by a general unwell feeling (f I didn’t know better, I thought I was getting my period, although you’ll know from reading Day 21’s blog that I’ve been on my period for a week already).  We stopped in Morrison’s and had a late lunch/early dinner (it was around 2:30pm by this point) and I felt slightly better after food.  Around 6pm I started feeling sick and rather headachey, although this seem to be cured by a combination of food and paracetamol.  My housemate told me I am probably getting flu again; I hope not.  I am just about well again after the last bout of cold and don’t need any more!  But I do feel run down, so anything’s possible. Anyway, the point I was making, before I rudely interrupted myself, was that I had great plans for working this weekend; and all have been scuppered by not feeling 100%.  I’ve done nothing for uni this weekend, and with three weeks until my dissertation is due in this is not a good sign.

I’ll finish this blog here, because I have another one that I want to write before I get myself off to bed for a reasonably early night.  See you there.


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