Of Brain-Bursting Burblings November 12, 2009
Posted by Jen in : A210, Journal , trackbackHello hello. I am scrawling this from the confines of my padded cell. Madness brought about by a combination of counting grass, ignoring cows and OU rigors has rendered me insensible and I am having to convey these words for you by telepathy to a hedgehog who is scrawling the words in blood with his plentiful pointy bits. Spines, he says they’re called.
In these days of recession, we have to think carefully about re-using what we can. So, in this spirit, I confess that those opening words have been recycled from an email I sent a friend yesterday, trying to bamboozle him with weirdness so that he wouldn’t notice I was actually bailing out of a longstanding drinking arrangement. Well, I say longstanding but we’d probably have had to sit down. And it’s a drink we said we were going to go for about, ooh, 21 years ago. No, really. I actually am that bad. I can’t remember why we didn’t have that drink all those years ago, in Jersey as we were then. Not to mention the fact that he was *rather* handsome and I really wanted to. I expect I was too busy, working full time and spending each evening barricaded into the Jersey Opera House orchestra pit tootling my flute.
Now? I’m just as bad. It appears, to those who don’t know me properly, that I devour deadlines and stress for breakfast. I don’t. I’m more of a tea and toast kinda girl.
‘Are you tired and stressed now?’ I was asked the other day. Erm… It is, it would seem, my default setting. That’s not good, is it?
Would you like a shameful confession? I have plenty, of course, but today’s is that I recently worked studiously through Paul McKenna’s ‘Change Your Life in 7 Days’. Needless to say, it took me a month to get through. Too busy, you see. And what did I learn? That teaching, which I’ve been pursuing for more years than I can remember, didn’t feature even once. I don’t want to be a teacher. I just didn’t know it. So what do I want? Um… no idea. To write, obviously. But there’s no time to write right now because of the studying. So, do I abandon the degree and write the novel that’s nagging me? Or look upon the Lit degree as an investment in time, something that will make me a better writer when I pick it up again? Answers to the usual address, if you please.
The rather super-at-time-juggling Beleaguered Squirrel noticed something in my last blog post that I hadn’t: I’d somehow taken a day off work in order to do something ‘yesterday’. I know. I have struck upon a genius idea, no? In between the Other Things, I shall build a time machine. I will construct it from empty ketchup thingies, tins of salad-crisp sweetcorn and some knicker elastic. I expect I’ll need some tin foil too. Time machines must be shiny. I could use tinsel too, seeing as it’s now almost Chr… no. Let’s not think about that. All aboard the crisis time machine. Make haste, people of the frantic world. And could someone please pack the hedgehog?
Comments»
I’d say get the degree done, seeing as you’re so near the end. It’s good for the CV even if you don’t want to use it as a springboard for a PGCE.
Can I book my seat now? Will bring own hedgehog.
I am so impressed that you got through that book! – you’re the first person I’ve met who’s atually finished it.
Does your degree make you happy? If it doesn’t, is there some other reason why you should carry on?
And…if it doesn’t and there isn’t, is there something else that would make you happy, which is also achievable? Would writing the novel make you happy, even if it didn’t get published?
Good luck, whatever you decide.
You made me proper LOL! Noone ever does that on the interwebs!!!!! I’m so excited
My sis decided after finishing her degree, just before applying for her PGCE, that she didn’t want to teach any more. She’d been building towards it for her whole degree, and only realised ’cause her best friend (now her boyf, awww) mentioned it in passing over coffee and she burst into tears. Until then she had no conscious idea she didn’t want to do it any more.
I replied to an email five years after it was sent at one point. I am impressed by how thoroughly your 21-years-later drink beats that.
Anyway! I’d say get the degree – unless it turned out that you have absolutely no interest in that either. If not, you can always come back to it in the future – the credits are valid for a long time! Did you claim your diploma btw? i got mine. it’s all lovely.
i’m still working towards my NVQ in work. That and baby-incubating is plenty for me at the mo. oh, and failing nano. yay!
xx
Life is just too hard. That’s all there is to it.
I decided I wanted to get a degree once, then saw SOME of the books and backed out quickly. I don’t quite know how that is in anyway helpful though, but then it isn’t 8am yet and my brain hasn’t quite woken up.
A degree is something worth getting, although I think you should do what your instinct tells you to. Again, not a helpful answer.
I want to award this post with something created from solid gold. Very funny. Not being able to afford the gold, I award it the Crumpled-Up Kitchen Foil Award for Outstanding Humour in the Face of Adversity.
Stick with the degree. It won’t necessarily make you a better writer – though it will definitely help. It won’t lead to hitherto closed doors swinging open. It will make you feel good about yourself. It will teach you how to manage the stress of deadlines. It will give you the oomph to finish your book. It will do wonders for your confidence.
And you are worth it.
I’m with DOT on this one, it may not help with book job etc but it will help with self-esteem. But do watch out for fleas from your little prickly friend!!
I agree with DOT too. Unless you don’t want to of course. Hmmm, not helpful.
I did a job for years I didn’t like and didn’t realise until I left and started doing something else entirely, but I don’t regret the job I didn’t realise I didn’t like because it did look good on the CV, and it led me down lots of other paths that got me where I am today – hunched over the computer in my dressing-gown with unwashed hair, clutching a yoghurt and wondering if I’ve got time to bake a cake before I get on with not writing my novel.
Oh.
I’ll contribute some glitter to the time machine though.
I’ve got some fairy lights that don’t quite work. Blinky off-on-y lights are essential for a time machine, no? I can be your not-very-bright travelling companion who squeals a lot.
The only long standing date I’ve ever had was with myself… I wanted to be there, watching, when Blue Peter dug up their Time Capsule. I really worried (when they buried it): what if I forgot to turn up? Would I still care at 37 years old?
I did still care and I didn’t forget because my children watched BP!
I’m dead impressed at a drink that many years ahead.
Once you’ve got the degree, you could go on to be a Zen Master or something – just uttering a few words of wisdom a day, in between tea and toast.
P.S. Why didn’t you tell me the A636 was so hard? Or is it the 363? See. I need a year long sick note.
I know exactly what i want to be when I grow up but I need to work out how to make enough money so that I can be that person.
You’ll work it out. You will.
Queenie – You’re right, as always. It would be daft to abandon anything anything so near the finish line, wouldn’t it?
Sarah – Consider your seat reserved.
Honeysuckle – You have rather hit the mail on its noggin. The degree doesn’t make me massively happy, though I will be happy that I’ve achieved it, come next summer. Writing makes me happy but I can do that when the degree’s done. I’m just not very patient, am I?
Beth – I can empathise with your sister totally. I’m quite at sea with the concept of finishing this degree now that I have no idea what to do with it. I haven’t claimed my diploma – didn’t realise we had to? Why can’t they just send it if we’ve earned it? Pah. No idea where to claim it from. Am a div. Will investigate. Now get back to your Nano-ing!
Helen – Yeah, but it wouldn’t be worthwhile if it were easy? And you have to admit, we do manage bits of fun now and again, don’t we? (Am thinking cushions and luggage trolleys in early Dec)
Debs – I like that your brain stays asleep until a civilised hour. Yeah, lotsa books. Mmmmmm. *Sigh*
DOT – Aw. Would you like to be my life coach? I haven’t any money with which to pay you but I make a mean ginger & choc flapjack. I would wrap it up in the spare foil for you as a reward. Seriously, thank you. You’re a darling (and speak good sense).
Sheepish – Fleas? My spiny friend has put fleas in my tiny space machine? Well, that’s just bloody typical that is.
Karen – that’s so funny. You can still come in the time machine, even if you do smell of yoghurt. There’ll be no not-writing though. The glitter will bring forth creativity. No really, it will.
Loth – I’d forgotten we need a squealer! Crikey, blinky on-and-off is how my brain works. The ‘off’ part, particularly. We could programme them or communication purposes?
JJ – I love the idea of doing a time capsule. Something to leave for grandchildren perhaps. I had, I’m ashamed to admit, forgotten about the Blue Peter one. How fab that you saw it with your children…
Fia – A363 is really hard. Soz. Here, have some toast. Toast fixes everything. (I am zen)
Lane – Ah, yes, money. A degree will mean I can earn the same amount in less hours, thereby equaling more writing time. Innit wot? And what, pray tell, will you become when/if you grow up?
Knicker elastic. So that’s why my time machine doesn’t work…
Ooh! My name in lights! How exciting!
I love this post. Not just because it has my name in it but also because it is well-written and entertaining and said something random about hedgehogs. I know some pedantic people who object to that use of the word “random”, but I don’t really understand why. Apparently it’s wrong, but it seems right to me.
Well anyway. Super-at-time-juggling? Me? Me, the woman who is sitting at her computer at stupid am because she has three simple tasks to do this evening before bed and despite drinking strong coffee (which she shouldn’t, because it’s bad for her) has only managed one of them, and even if she gets those three done she’ll still have ten impossible things to do before breakfast tomorrow before she even gets close to actually achieving the things she needs to achieve this week?
You need to speak to that Qwerty Queen woman. I happen to know for a fact that she is intimidatingly brilliant at juggling time. She Gets Stuff Done, just cos it needs doing, which is the most ridiculously straightforward (and therefore unlikely) reason for doing something that I ever heard. ;o)
PS Don’t teach if you don’t want to. It’s bad enough when you do, or so I’m told.
I do laugh every time I read your blog. You are quite loony, you know that don’t you?
Hmm degree or not degree that appears to be the question. I admire anyone who can study as an adult. I tried and found myself navel gazing for far too long.
Only thing I can say is wherever you find the time – find the time you MUST to write. You are too good a writer not to. Fx
did you register that you wanted the diploma? some people wouldnt want to claim it as it would stop them using the points for a degree so it’s not automatic. you can link the modules from your ou student home and then should get the cerificate. phone ‘em if you can’t figure it out
i’ve kinda given up on nano. would still like to get to 20k but i’m not even optimistic about that. oh well….
Lucy – Knicker elastic is crucial for all things time-travel. Not many people know that. It’s an easy mistake to make.
Squidgy – You actually are more amazing than you realise, I think. But yes, that Qwerty Queen is a bit of a marvel. She frightens me. In a good way. She makes nice bread though. I like ‘random’. It makes me happy.
Fionnuala – Oh, you are a love. Decisions have been made. Am now having an attack of the vapours.
Beth – Oh, can’t we have the diploma AND a degree? I don’t understand. Will phone them and moan a bit. That’ll be something to look forward to. I wouldn’t worry about Nano. You need to look after yourself. Nano will still be there next year when your brain has turned to porridge.