It's been a stressful few days. Since returning to uni I've worked perhaps 60 hours on various aspects of uni work, and I've had very little time to myself. Last night's football was a welcome work-out to relieve stress.
Unfortunately it's likely to be the last time I play for some three months. Uni's timetable isn't conducive to any of the activities I like doing, so I won't get the chance to play and I'm also finally sorting out my long-standing knee injury. If I need surgery that'd put me out for about six months, as I reckon it's a cartilage problem that'd need more than just physio to cure. But I'm no expert, and it might just be residual problems arising from a dislocated knee.
But that pain would pale in comparison to my present workload. Two pieces of coursework, several SPSs to prepare, a dissertation and the SLO all going on at once makes for a very stressed and not particularly happy me. Especially seeing as one of those pieces of coursework is being redrafted after I made a mess of it the first time. And progress is sloooow, or so it seems; considering the volume it feels like I'm hardly making an indent.
Progress is also slow on the short stories I'm writing and the books I'm reading. I've only completed two in the first fortnight of the year (an unprecedentedly low number), and the Lovecraft collection has taken me almost 3 weeks.
I'm not sure I like Lovecraft. His style is hard work to read and he sometimes seems lazy in his descriptions. When he says something defies description it feels like a copout, and the multiple times he finishes a story in exactly the same way is just plain frustrating. Still, he has his moments.
On the short story front, I have half a dozen ideas I'm trying to work on, one of which is properly in the writing process, but it's just getting the chance. Uni is, unfortunately, a little onerous in its demands at the moment.