I managed to get paper cuts, tippex*, coloured pen and highlighter all over my hands. I immersed myself in the tragedy of King Lear in the hope that on a second reading, and reading of criticism, somehow miraculously Mr Will Shakespeare would have re-written the last scenes but alas, it is still a tragedy and tragedies are emotionally draining. Especially if you study them for about nine hours thus smashing, ok maybe not smashing, breaking, Corinne's library record.

The thing is, I didn't mind being in the library that long. I felt like a proper student, surrounded by books and brightly coloured notes plus I actually like Shakespeare. I have no idea how I am going to amalgamate all my notes into an essay plan though; me being the type of person who doesn't make plans, researches half the essay, turns the music up loud and just starts writing, researching whilst I write. It's weird that soon I'm not going to be able to go to the library anymore. I already had this thought over the holidays and it distressed me a bit because no access to a place where there's FREE BOOKS* is a sad thought considering I am incapable of buying just one book from Waterstones and usually end up with at least three and cursing their 'three for two' offers.

Is it weird that I'm not even thinking about "freedom"? I don't want to be free, I want to carry on being immersed in literature. Plus the 'real world' sounds scary.


*Because in a moment of solidarity I have joined Lucy's World of the Anal and so now own tippex.
**Unless you are Gilly and clock up a huge fine.