Tag Archives: desk

Boredom = pointless blog post.

But I make no apologies. I’m bored and blogging somewhat relieves that boredom. Shurrup.

So, it’s only now that I’m finding myself in my bedroom without my desk that I’m realising how essential a desk is in a bedroom.

My room up North is too small for one. But I need my desk. Ironically, when I was at school – particularly that last year of school – I used to hate the thought of having to sit down at my desk and ‘do work’. I used to think of work as a chore (hell, I still will at uni no doubt), hence why I used to do a lot of my homework sitting cross-legged on my bed, like how I am sitting now.

But I think that’s the problem – we associate different things with different places. I used to think desk = schoolwork, therefore I preferred to steer clear of my desk. However, now it has become bed = the place where I sit all day chatting online/tumblring/blogging/youtubing, and because of this I am craving some other creative space. Somewhere to make things with glue and patterned paper and glitter, somewhere to write, somewhere to organise myself…

In this respect, I really want to get back down to my room at CH and sort out my books and things on that huuuuuuuge desk of mine. Of course there are many other reasons that I want to return too – the people, the parties, the foooood, the getting-away-from-here part of it all… 🙂 Yeah, I’ve fully convinced myself. Adelaide was never an option for me, and I don’t really see the point in doing a half-year transfer to Auckland. In my opinion, it’s probably best to get back down to Chch asap so that some form of normality can begin to take shape. My grades will otherwise likely be screwed, if not already after that first psych lecture…

In other news, it’s raining. A lot. It’s also my birthday soon. But sooner than that, I get to see you again on Weds 😀 Happyhappyhappy times! Although maybe not as happy as your time last night, heeyyyyyy? 😛 I kid! I just with I could’ve been there to witness it so I could effectively use it against you when next you accuse me of murdering my liver, hahaha.

I’m feeling Arctic Monkeys-ish:

PS. I wish I was a cat. They have the easiest, most perfect lives. And when I think of cats I think of Alex Boyd and NOW I HAVE THAT GODDAMNED CATSUIT IMAGE THING IN MY HEAD. GODDAMNIT GO AWAAAAAAAAAY. Grr. It’s just cruel that that even exists (no offense intended).

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