I highly suspect that yet another source of procrastination – this time in blog form – is the last thing I need in my life right now, but it’s far too early on in summer to start thinking about dreaded holiday work, work which probably won’t even be attempted until the week before I go back to uni. If then. And besides, I flirted with the idea of creating this blog way back in April, whilst revising for my first year exams, so at least I waited until term was over and I was back home before I actually created it. See. I’m not that bad.
What this all goes to show is how little an idea I have of what I’m doing. What is this blog? What will I write about? Will I ever pick up my abandoned copies of the Iliad and Odyssey, or will my degree inevitably fall victim to a WordPress-flavoured plague of procrastination? No doubt I’ll be the last to know. I envisage myself writing about crochet and sewing and crafts and books and Disney and my copious crises of inadequacy as I pitifully attempt to navigate adulthood. But maybe I will end up writing about dogs and maths and football and politics and why I will never eat another cake as long as I live. Anyone’s guess.
I am well and truly winging it – with respect to this blog, with respect to my degree, with respect to my life. But I shall march on blindly, confident in the belief that everyone is winging it, and it is simply the case that some are better at hiding it than others.