Today's the last day of August, so I considered it my duty to update one more time, avoiding the shame and humiliation of admitting that I only updated twice this month. Thrice is far more impressive.
I don't have any particular philosophical ramblings to communicate, nor events to divulge, nor 101 tasks to exult over. Unfortunately, this whole blog has mostly fit into one or other of the above categories; when I have none of the above to talk about, I'm slightly at a loss.
This has been a crazy week, though. Partly due to my own lack of organisation, I have to admit, but not all my own fault. I had an assignment due last Friday; one on Monday; one today; and two next week. Add to that visits from Darcy, Shaun and my sister, and three contact courses, all within this week, and it was busy — especially when two of the contact courses fell on exactly the same days. Amusingly, they're exactly across the hall from each other, so I'm sitting in one lecture room, looking across the hall at the other lecture I'm meant to be at.
I was gutted that I didn't actually have time to hang out with Shaun in the end — I almost didn't have time to hang out with Darcy either, but managed to squeeze him in. And it was great to see Anna — Joy cooked dinner for her, Dan and me, and afterwards she and Dan and I went to his place and watched a movie. Just relaxed... but I guess Anna and Dan haven't ever really hung out together before (living on different islands makes it difficult), so that was cool. She and I are so alike though, it was hilarious. Joy didn't notice it, but Dan and I definitely did.
My big stress for next week, though, is not my two assignments — nor my meeting with my lecturer — nor even my job interview on Monday (wish me luck! although Kylie may never speak to me again if I get it).
My big stress is my sister. Well, more accurately, my car.
My sister in my car.
Yup, next week Anna is borrowing my beautiful, new, glossy, featureful car to drive up to Auckland with one of her friends to go to a concert. My baby sister driving my car for several hours on end. Then in Auckland. That's Auckland — not renowned for easy traffic. Then keep my precious car there overnight. Then drive back.
All without crashing or being broken into or hitting another car or being hit by another car or bumping something while parking or getting out of a park or falling asleep at the wheel or having my lovely new car stereo stolen....
Stressed, so very very stressed! If anything does happen, Anna's volunteered to bear the costs (damn straight!) but when I asked her if she actually had enough money to cover the excess, she had to admit she doesn't. So I would have to pay anyway, and then my little sister would owe me money (cos I'm not forgiving that kind of a debt!) and owing money within the family worries me. Or being owed money within the family, for that matter.
It's stressful, it's very stressful. I'll be so relieved when (when, not if — when) my car is back with me, safe and relatively sound. We're ignoring the fact that I've actually mildly jarred it twice in the last two weeks — once misjudging the distance as I edged out of a parallel park, and once a fence springing up to plow a huge horrible dent in my poor car. I feel so guilty for injuring my beautiful car!
Surprisingly enough, writing about all the things that could and have gone wrong with my car is not calming me notably, either. In fact, I might go and do what I'm actually meant to be doing — working on the assignment due today.
I hope my poor, beautiful car is OK. I hope my sister treats it well. I hope Auckland treats her well.
...Oh dear oh dear oh dear.