Wednesday mornings should be more productive

Wednesdays are the sort of days where you look out of your bedroom window and realise that you are only half way into your week. That the fun of Thursday nights out is still pretty distant, and yet it feels like a millenia since the last time you let your hair down.

Of course I know that this is only my mind playing tricks on me. Was it really only last night that I sat eating Hungry Jacks (the Aussie equivalent of Burger King) with Mandy, and treating ourselves to a divine  cookies & cream shortcake and ice-cream at Milk & Honey afterwards? *sigh* Sadly yes. I can still feel the sugary goodness pumping through my clogged up arteries as we speak...but my, was that a yummy cake! The sort of cake you'd feel positively guilty for eating to yourself, but when shared with a friend or two makes life seem that little bit lighter, and the essays, assignments and exam revision mounting at people's doors back in halls disappear momentarily whilst the chocolate melts in your mouth.

I think saying I have a sweet tooth would be the understatement of the century. I'm not as bad as a certain unnamed individual who is wonderful in every way until he arrives at my door and forces me to go and "overload" with him, and I literally have to roll back into my bedroom a few hours later, my poor jeans groaning under the extra stretch...

What makes it worse is that he never gains a pound! Saying that, his gym pass is well used, whereas I never even bothered buying one. So hey, I guess that's my bad. 

Attempting to take part in a "Body Pump" class tonight. A close girl friend has already warned me that I will be positively aching for the next few days, and will wake up in the mornings with my body yelling "WHYYY?" at me. [This anecdote was made funnier by the fact she decided to warn me whilst we were sitting in a quiet kitchen surrounded by uni students who are no-longer forced to wake up for lectures, and therefore who are more than capable of remembering such embarrassing moments as this, especially when I decide to imitate my friend in a slightly louder tone and get a few weird glances]

Wednesday mornings/early afternoons seem to be an ideal time to procrastinate on stupid things. Like, for example, writing a blog when I know I should be completing an Art History Assignment on what makes Gericault's Raft of the Medusa a Romantic painting. 818 words down, but goodness knows if a stream of quoting other art critics is going to get me any points. Certainly it suggests I've done the research, but also implies that I am an unoriginal old fart with no personal opinions on anything vaguely arty, and should have stuck to my English Lit major and left all creativity alone. Nevertheless, I will continue to plod along through this assignment...any tips/advice/opinions etc will be valued and appreciated. Within reason. If my art teacher is reading this then I do want you to know that as soon as this blog is typed up I am OUT OF HERE.

Going, going, gone..