The Return of the Prodigal

Let’s not look at the date of my last post. I'm here now and I've got things to say. Well, honestly, I don't know why people would be interested to read my miserable whining about my completely messed up academic life, but I need to whine somewhere and the people I generally go to have a whine episode have gotten so tired of me that they have left the country. (It's true. One of them is busy sightseeing at Florence and eating Pino's sandwiches and truffled mushrooms and all sorts of exotically named food items. The other is sitting in Leeds and ignoring my whatsapp messages. ) And the person who's still around has stopped responding to my calls. He didn't even reply to my birthday wishes. Even though I actually got third time lucky and managed to wish him on the right date. He could have congratulated me on getting the date right, right? A little encouragement could help. I mean, I’m already neck-deep in trouble here, trying to fathom Jung. Don’t get me wrong there, I find Jung fascinating. It’s just that every time I try studying, I fall asleep. I think it’s my consciousness refusing to let me learn about stuff like shadow and animas and unconscious.
See, the thing about me is, I'm only an accidental academic. I was pretty sure I was never going have to study any more after my masters, but in an entirely unplanned turn of events, I ended up enrolling myself first for an M.Phil, and then for a Ph.D. And since then, writing has taken a backseat because there was always exams and write-ups to hand in for class and dissertations and papers. Well, that's what I tell myself, anyway. A good procrastinator always knows her excuses. 
But the point is, I'm back, turning a new leaf blah blah blah. I was going through parts of the odd 3 chapters I wrote for the one NaNoWriMo I participated in (way back in 2010), and it seemed to me it wasn't as terrible I thought it was at that time. I am musing on altering some of the plot lines there and pick it back up.
Also, I’m going to have a poem published in The Art of Being Human anthology, vol 14, theme insomnia. I believe it’s going to be a blurb book, not sure how I’m going to get a copy, but anyway, I’m going to keep you updated on that front.
See you next week, if you’re here at all. Fingers crossed.


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