In a bookshop recently, and in my mood of apathy (for everything bar book-buying), I saw a book entitled F**k it Therapy. As it fitted my feelings perfectly (and was half price), I bought it, read it in a day, and was finally able to get back into a 'wanting to do things' mood. And so, over this weekend, I have written and submitted the plan for my final Children's Literature piece. I have also written 2500 words for Creative Writing, and sent that on its merry way. I'm particularly pleased with the latter as I've finished it nearly two weeks early, which takes the pressure off everything else. I do feel emotionally wrung out though. Our CW assignment had to be written to a professional standard and aimed at a suitable magazine. Although I got my highest mark for fiction, it took ages to write, and I didn't have long (my own fault for taking on two courses at once), so I wrote to an American magazine on speech problems, about how the paedophile bastard struck and left me with a stammer. He's got to be good for something, surely.
Obviously, saying 'F**k it' to everything only gets you so far. The main thing that banished my negative mood was seeing a kingfisher by the stream at the bottom of my garden, so, in case you're having a bad day, have a kingfisher instead:
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