Personal Blogs

Dear patient readers,

You may have noticed that my blog has been quieter than a library during a surprise inspection. This was not intentional. I did not abandon you. I simply made the classic mature student mistake of believing I could realistically manage my time.

I would like to take this moment to apologise for the unexpected blogging drought. I had every intention of posting regularly. Unfortunately, life, academia, and a deeply unreasonable number of glitter highlighters had other plans.

The Memoir Situation

Firstly, I have been writing my memoir. Yes, an actual memoir. Because apparently going back to university as a mature student wasn’t emotionally challenging enough on its own.

The memoir explores trauma, abuse, survival, and the long journey into advocacy. It is important work, meaningful work, and occasionally the literary equivalent of opening a drawer labelled “Things We Packed Away for Later and Definitely Should Have Left Shut Until After Coffee.”

Writing it involves a lot of reflection, some unexpected emotional ambushes, and a suspicious amount of tea. There have also been moments where I’ve written a paragraph, stared at it, and thought: Wow. That explains a lot.

Still, it matters. Stories matter. Advocacy matters. And if even one person reads it and thinks “oh, it wasn’t just me,” then it will have been worth every slightly terrifying sentence.

The Glitter Highlighter Crisis

While doing all this serious reflective writing, I have also been fighting a battle that nobody warned me about when I enrolled in higher education.

Stationery.

More specifically: glitter highlighters.

At some point I made the perfectly reasonable decision that ordinary highlighters were unacceptable. If I am going to highlight academic texts, those highlights should sparkle with purpose.

Unfortunately, glitter highlighters behave less like stationery and more like a rapidly expanding ecosystem. I started with three. I now appear to own approximately seventeen.

They are everywhere.

In pencil cases.
On my desk.
In bags I haven’t used since 2019.

I’m fairly certain they’re reproducing when the lights are off.

The Next Module: A Light Existential Crisis

Meanwhile, I am also attempting to choose my next module, which is a process best described as academic speed-dating with existential consequences.

Each module description follows the same emotional arc:

1. Oh this looks fascinating.

2. This could really deepen my understanding.

3. Oh look, a reading list longer than my will to live.

As a mature student, you’d think wisdom and life experience would make these decisions easier.

Instead, it just means I overthink them with greater sophistication.

Where Have I Actually Been?

So in summary, my recent absence can be explained by the following completely reasonable schedule:

• Writing a memoir about trauma, abuse, survival, and advocacy

• Doing university work

• Accidentally building a glitter stationery empire

• Having mild academic identity crises while choosing modules

• Drinking tea like it’s a research method

The Plan Going Forward

The blog will return to regular programming shortly.

Assuming, of course, I can clear enough space on my desk between the glitter highlighters and the emotional processing.

Thank you for your patience while I was temporarily missing in academic action.

Normal levels of slightly chaotic mature-student commentary will resume soon.

Sparkles optional.

(They are not optional.)

Ah, the life of a mature student. People think it’s all intellectual debates, neatly highlighted notes, and serene moments of enlightenment. In reality, it’s more lukewarm tea, misplaced pens, and wondering why you ever thought going back to study was a good idea after a full day at work.

Today began like any other — the noble quest to conquer adulthood and academia simultaneously. I spent the morning at work making folders (thrilling stuff), helping students (bless them, though half of them seem to think I’m Google with legs), and trying not to cry into the photocopier. My desk looked like a cross between an admin battlefield and a stationery graveyard.

After surviving the day armed only with caffeine and mild sarcasm, I trudged home, dreaming of my “gourmet” dinner — lovingly prepared by my husband: a chicken burger and oven chips. Michelin-star chefs could never. He even made me a cup of tea to go with it, because nothing says “I love you” like a well-timed brew.

As I sat down to eat, our dogs came bounding over like furry missiles of affection. In their enthusiasm to say hello, one launched herself into my lap, and the tea went flying; my beautiful burger took a nosedive into the cup. So now I had tea-flavoured chicken and chip-infused regret. The dogs looked delighted, of course — they thought it was performance art.

Outside, the weather matched my mood: cold, grey, and generally unhelpful. I gave up on salvaging dinner, put the kettle on...again, and decided the universe was clearly telling me to have an early night.

No studying tonight. No guilt. Just pyjamas, a blanket, and the faint smell of damp chips lingering in the air. Tomorrow, I’ll refocus. I’ll be productive. I’ll tackle my to-do list like the mature, organised student I pretend to be.

But tonight? Tonight, I’m just a tired human with soggy dinner memories and tea stains on my socks.

Here’s to all the mature students out there — juggling work, study, and life’s little disasters. May your folders stay neat, your dogs stay calm, and your tea stay safely in its cup. ☕🐾