Furthermore...
Note to self: do not go wandering around. Stay in your room. Am almost at the stage of having to take rest-breaks on the stairs and I only live on the first floor...
It occurs to me that Cambridge is at the moment a place of thwarted ambition, disappointed dreams, and of nostalgia. Note always the -algia in nostalgia; it truly is painful.
When over at the Senate-House checking other people's results earlier, I noticed more than one couple, the one checking their results whilst the other provided fawning support. "I got a 2:1... no, wait... yes, I did get a 2:1" and then all the hugging and the excitement and all. Who was there to celebrate with me, eh? (to the extent that anything I do is worthy of celebration)[/bitter&twisted]. But being alone is the only way to be. Besides which I'm sure there were a couple of other psychologists there who said nice things like "hi, well done etc."
I'd like to apologise to all my friends for the previous paragraph. I specifically turned down offers to come with me on results day, and it was my choice not to run around like an excited gerbil telling everyone what I got. :)
Oh and one more thing; last night's bop; first years are very young; we third years are very old. Which still doesn't solve the matter of why certain graduate guys (mentioning no names, of course) are so pally with certain first year girls... But does add still more evidence to the "you're getting old, S" school of depressing thought.
I suspect there are some of us who'd like to do the three years again, only with much less work and much more studenty fun e.g. coffee and philosophical discussion and orchestras. Would have to be doing a much easier subject at a much easier college and settle for a lower class, though...
It occurs to me that Cambridge is at the moment a place of thwarted ambition, disappointed dreams, and of nostalgia. Note always the -algia in nostalgia; it truly is painful.
When over at the Senate-House checking other people's results earlier, I noticed more than one couple, the one checking their results whilst the other provided fawning support. "I got a 2:1... no, wait... yes, I did get a 2:1" and then all the hugging and the excitement and all. Who was there to celebrate with me, eh? (to the extent that anything I do is worthy of celebration)[/bitter&twisted]. But being alone is the only way to be. Besides which I'm sure there were a couple of other psychologists there who said nice things like "hi, well done etc."
I'd like to apologise to all my friends for the previous paragraph. I specifically turned down offers to come with me on results day, and it was my choice not to run around like an excited gerbil telling everyone what I got. :)
Oh and one more thing; last night's bop; first years are very young; we third years are very old. Which still doesn't solve the matter of why certain graduate guys (mentioning no names, of course) are so pally with certain first year girls... But does add still more evidence to the "you're getting old, S" school of depressing thought.
I suspect there are some of us who'd like to do the three years again, only with much less work and much more studenty fun e.g. coffee and philosophical discussion and orchestras. Would have to be doing a much easier subject at a much easier college and settle for a lower class, though...

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