The washing is done, the bin emptied and the desk cleared (I didn’t find any buried treasure by the way). The boyfriend has gone off to play poker at a friends. I was invited to play poker too but I can’t. I have tried to learn but I just end up confused and irritated. It’s all just too much for my simple brain to take in. So I’m home alone on a Saturday night. The perfect conditions for studying you might think. Except there’s pretty much nothing I feel less like doing right now. I have no desire to read through a so-called “lecture” (it’s a Word document for students of an online course to download, how can it be a lecture?) that starts like this:
“Aims:
– Understand what is meant by a text
– Understand what is meant by text analysis
– Understand what is meant by context
– Understand some theories for the analysis of context”
Sounds thrilling doesn’t it? No, I really don’t want to do that at all. I also don’t want to do the “hands on practical analysis” that comes afer the lecture. So instead I’m on here writing a pointless blog about not wanting to do my work. What I’d really like to do is spend all my money ordering books from Amazon before crawling into bed with Cecelia Ahern’s Thanks for the Memories (it’s pretty good up to now by the way) and a large box of chocolates. But spending all my money really isn’t a clever idea if I want to eat for the rest of the month and I don’t have even a small box of chocolates, never mind a large one. I do have some icecream, but even the thought of eating something cold makes my nose run so best not go there. One out of three ain’t bad though. I can live with just the book.
Confuzzledom 