I've learnt a lot about myself over these past two semesters (just starting the third tomorrow). I can talk to people, I can get myself out of sticky situations and I have learnt that your body will continue to steer you through a crisis even if your mind says 'no chance'. I'm yet to come to terms with the fact that I'll never be a size 8, or that I probably won't ever marry Benedict Cumberbatch.
I digress. What I'm trying to say is that I should, by now, realise that shit gets thrown in your face on a frankly daily basis and just because one of those lumps of excrement has come out of nowhere and made you look at things differently it doesn't mean you can't just wipe off the faeces and get on with everything else going on in your life.
Pass me a j cloth.
EDIT: Because people are texting me asking what's going on I'll clarify: I returned to Falmouth yesterday. I left friends, family and two kitties behind to sit on a train and travel 300 miles away for 10 weeks. I didn't get a chance to say goodbye to Laura properly so I feel like a crap friend. My train was cancelled at Plymouth meaning I spent 2 hours worrying about what was going to happen and how I was supposed to get to Fal with a French guy across from me who kept implying it was a great opportunity to go out and get drunk *wink wink shudder shudder*. I eventually get back to Falmouth in the pouring rain with a painful twisted leg that I suspect I've pulled a muscle in or something. I forget all the important things like crumpets and coco pops at Asda this morning, and then, while eating my dinner, I discover a maggot hidden in my vegetables. Adam throws the maggot into the bin and I try not to throw up. I might not have shorthand tomorrow so I could have come back to Fal a few days later and said goodbye to people properly and not be stressed. But Crumblysnacks won an Olivier award tonight and I have squash and ginger nuts so don't cry for me, Argentina, everything is fine. Honestly. I'm excited for this week. Laura, I'm sorry.