I'm not well. I feel very strange indeed, which is always accompanied by great feelings of guilt. As in, if I'm well enough to sit at a computer or do other stuff, how come I'm not well enough to go to school. I start to think I'm making it all up, or that I'm exaggerating how I feel to form an excuse. But the fact is, I'm not physically up to the drive to school, let alone the hustle, bustle and general stress of the school day.

To aid my stressed-out brain, I've marked out the days left at school on my big free NUT planner that's stuck on the wall above this desk. I started from the final day, marking every weekend with the number of days until The End. This will stop me from wasting precious minutes counting the days on a daily basis (which, believe me, I would do). So I know that there are 36 teaching days until the end of the course. That may sound like precious little to people with proper jobs, but it actually sounds like heaps to me. In terms of hours of teaching it's 102. What I might do is print off a page with 102 little squares on that I can colour in at the end of each day.

102 hours. That's only four and a quarter days.

It's like the trip to Paris never happened, except we have a fridge magnet and some ticket stubs to prove it (the ticket you get for the Pompidou Centre are pretty cool: I recommend anyone to visit. I do not recommend you visit the Eiffel Tower. It's surreal to look at it at night from far away and think you've been up it, but after waiting for ages in the heat to ascend it, it's a bit of an anticlimax.) I'll upload some pictures soon, if my computer can handle the weight of them . . .

Back to it, slacker.