This marks the second morning with only a few half hours of sleep through the night. Only today and tomorrow for the TMA.
Met an old friend last night who brought along a couple of pictures from when we were kids. In one of them, from the 80s, we are both wearing shellsuits. I would have completely denied it had the evidence not been there, in front of me. Initially I was convinced I must have borrowed mine from her. But, each time I looked at the picture, my memory of it gradually returned. And now I believe that it was in fact mine.
It was strange how I was behind her in all the photographs, and only in one showing my face. I asked her if she had been 'the boss' of our friendship when we were little. It appears that I am in awe of her in the pictures, just trailing behind her all the time. Apparently not though, apparently, even at the age of 6, I was a cameraphobe. I'm looking forward to passing that information to my mother, as she has always maintained that my deep fear and hatred of being photographed began as a teenager. Not so. I knew it wasn't so, but in my family you can only win an argument if it is evidence-based. And someone outside of the family backs you up on your evidence. Photographic evidence is ideal.
She was also the third friend this year to remind me of a supposed obsession I had with somersaults. I find it bizarre, as I have no particular recollection of it, though apparently every time I went to these people's houses I would set up an obstacle course around their bedroom that always involved somersaulting off the bed repetitively. I believe it to be true, as I still have the urge to do it, and if I'm ever getting into an empty bed, I will, without fail, have to do a jumping somersault into it. The same goes for seeing a bar far enough from the ground to somersault over.
I went on a service user holiday to Lanzarote some years ago, and one of the routes into town had about 10 of those metal bars. We had to change the route in the end because I felt as though my ribs were starting to bruise from such regular engagement with metal, but the temptation to spin remained too great. I also can't resist an obstacle course. When exploring Glasgow with my boyfriend, we were walking down a very steep hill, when below me I spied a playground designed as an obstacle course. I felt the urge to run off, resisted... resisted... and ran off. Completed the obstacle course, and walked sensibly down the rest of the hill, feeling invigorated and slightly hyper. I don't remember, but it probably resulted in the singing of a silly song accompanied by a few bizarre dance moves. He's used to that now. Sometimes, he'll walk into a room, and I'll burst into some kind of verbally abusive made-up rap song, doing something vaguely resembling a chicken flapping its wings, right in his face. Now, he just looks at me and says 'have you got a deadline again?' The insomnia that kicks in without fail near an approaching deadline does unfortunately make me extremely hyper active. Well as a child it was termed that. Now it's more often termed manic, which is a term I am not a fan of generally speaking.
I got most of my research for the TMA sorted yesterday. Google scholar and I had a few fallings out along the way, but for the most part, it went smoothly. I hadn't been aware how tedious it is to have to record your online movements. Finding the sources in of itself was not too taxing. Remembering how I found them was far more so. Still, one piece of evidence still to find, and then I believe I can at least answer one of the questions.
As ever, I will be so happy when Wednesday morning arrives, when, after no doubt working all through the night, I reach TMA saturation, and accept I can do no more, and hand it in. There's much work to be done before that moment of elation though. So I guess I ought to make a start...
Deadline-induced insomnia, again
This marks the second morning with only a few half hours of sleep through the night. Only today and tomorrow for the TMA.
Met an old friend last night who brought along a couple of pictures from when we were kids. In one of them, from the 80s, we are both wearing shellsuits. I would have completely denied it had the evidence not been there, in front of me. Initially I was convinced I must have borrowed mine from her. But, each time I looked at the picture, my memory of it gradually returned. And now I believe that it was in fact mine.
It was strange how I was behind her in all the photographs, and only in one showing my face. I asked her if she had been 'the boss' of our friendship when we were little. It appears that I am in awe of her in the pictures, just trailing behind her all the time. Apparently not though, apparently, even at the age of 6, I was a cameraphobe. I'm looking forward to passing that information to my mother, as she has always maintained that my deep fear and hatred of being photographed began as a teenager. Not so. I knew it wasn't so, but in my family you can only win an argument if it is evidence-based. And someone outside of the family backs you up on your evidence. Photographic evidence is ideal.
She was also the third friend this year to remind me of a supposed obsession I had with somersaults. I find it bizarre, as I have no particular recollection of it, though apparently every time I went to these people's houses I would set up an obstacle course around their bedroom that always involved somersaulting off the bed repetitively. I believe it to be true, as I still have the urge to do it, and if I'm ever getting into an empty bed, I will, without fail, have to do a jumping somersault into it. The same goes for seeing a bar far enough from the ground to somersault over.
I went on a service user holiday to Lanzarote some years ago, and one of the routes into town had about 10 of those metal bars. We had to change the route in the end because I felt as though my ribs were starting to bruise from such regular engagement with metal, but the temptation to spin remained too great. I also can't resist an obstacle course. When exploring Glasgow with my boyfriend, we were walking down a very steep hill, when below me I spied a playground designed as an obstacle course. I felt the urge to run off, resisted... resisted... and ran off. Completed the obstacle course, and walked sensibly down the rest of the hill, feeling invigorated and slightly hyper. I don't remember, but it probably resulted in the singing of a silly song accompanied by a few bizarre dance moves. He's used to that now. Sometimes, he'll walk into a room, and I'll burst into some kind of verbally abusive made-up rap song, doing something vaguely resembling a chicken flapping its wings, right in his face. Now, he just looks at me and says 'have you got a deadline again?' The insomnia that kicks in without fail near an approaching deadline does unfortunately make me extremely hyper active. Well as a child it was termed that. Now it's more often termed manic, which is a term I am not a fan of generally speaking.
I got most of my research for the TMA sorted yesterday. Google scholar and I had a few fallings out along the way, but for the most part, it went smoothly. I hadn't been aware how tedious it is to have to record your online movements. Finding the sources in of itself was not too taxing. Remembering how I found them was far more so. Still, one piece of evidence still to find, and then I believe I can at least answer one of the questions.
As ever, I will be so happy when Wednesday morning arrives, when, after no doubt working all through the night, I reach TMA saturation, and accept I can do no more, and hand it in. There's much work to be done before that moment of elation though. So I guess I ought to make a start...