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anticipation or apprehension?

Typical Week:
A week in the life of a first year PPEist (Hilary term):
Deadlines: Philosophy essay in on Monday afternoon, Politics essay in on Tuesday afternoon, Economics problem sheet and essay in on Thursday morning
8am-6pm philosophy reading
8pm-11pm, essay plan, start writing
4/5am-10:30am write essay,
11am-1pm lectures,
1.15pm-3pm finish essay,
3-4pm lecture
5pm philosophy tute – recover –
9pm-11pm politics essay plan, start writing
4/5am-9:30 am essay writing
10am lecture
12-4 finish essay,
4pm politics tute,
5pm-6:30pm practice
7pm-10pm OUO rehearsal – sleep…
7am – 10.30am finish economics reading,
11am lecture,
1pm-4pm economics questions,
4pm-6pm economics revision class, then some practice,
7pm-10pm OUPhil rehearsal – lots of coffee –
11pm-9am the weekly economics torture: Finish on questions and write essay (usually most PPEists and E&Mists stayed up all night so it was actually quite nice)
Thursday: SLEEP Some more economics reading for the tute, start on some politics reading, practice,
7pm-10pm OUO rehearsal
Friday: Economics tute at 11.30am, lecture at 3, as much politics reading as possible around that
Saturday: 7am-midnight politics and economics reading with breaks (doing shopping, going walking/running/cycling)
This term was not good for my health but I’ve been told this was the hardest term workload-wise for PPEists.

taken from here.

Doesn’t that sound reassuring? Where are all the infamous British pub nights? Oh, dear. It was a good thing I didn’t look at thestudentroom too closely before I applied, because it would most definitely have discouraged me. Well, in any case, I’m more than motivated to do as much of my reading list before I go (in the scant ten days I have left) as possible, but that’s not saying much, is it?

I’ll let you all know what my terms look like. Hilary term is the second one. Independent studying, here we go! (Not that Pearson didn’t prepare me for that, eh?)

Been searching around for good short stories and poetry that would work well in a seventh-grade transitioning language arts workshop. I find myself quite unable to relate to the minds of thirteen-year-olds, actually, especially if they are going for tuition. I don’t quite know what level of writing to pitch to them, and the problem is, of course, exacerbated by the fact that my inclination to read (and devour) has always been instinctive, so I haven’t really a clue about how to encourage reluctant readers. In any case, The New Yorker was a good source of them.

One thing I learnt from the short stories, though: vernalmeaning relating to or of spring. A bonus feature of Macs is that you can easily look up words on a page by double-clicking! That’s very handy.

Helping my cousin with his Duke-NUS application also leaves me feeling a little out of my depth. Not even mentioning how disastrously my Common App went (and Duke-NUS follows the American system quite closely, I hear), I haven’t the slightest idea about medical school requirements, and the little I’ve been able to find about Duke-NUS doesn’t help; they don’t even publish admission statistics!   Plus, he’s applying with an engineering degree, and I know nothing about engineering. Oops! Trying, trying.

I also have a troubling issue with getting up at normal times if there’s nothing pressing scheduled for the day. I set my alarm for 8.50 am today because I went to bed at around 1.30 am, so I was graciously going to allow myself seven-odd hours of sleep, and I did wake up, but I reset my alarm for 9.30 am instead, and then I woke up at 10.45 am : P I had a terrible dream too, in the last hour, so it wasn’t like that was even profitable.

– as linked to by a friend on FB

Summer move forward and stitch me the fabric of fall
Wrap life in the brilliance of death to humble us all
How sweet is the day
I’m craving a darkness
As I sit tucked away with my back to the wall

And the taste of dried-up hopes in my mouth
And the landscape of merry and desperate drought
How much longer dear angels
Let winterlight come
And spread your white sheets over my empty house

– drought, vienna teng

Wikipedia says that she adopted her artist name after the capital of Austria. No shit, Sherlock.

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