Forget tonic, a splash of anxiety and squeeze of skim reading is the perfect accompaniment for gin.
So I've been told.
Exams seem to have this funny way of transforming usually sane, functioning individuals into these frantic, highlighter terrorists. Demoniacally chanting the definition of Organisational Structures under their breath.
"Organisational structure is taken to be the fundamental and relatively unchanging features of an organisation which are officially sanctioned by those who control it and consists of the way activities and component parts are grouped, controlled and coordinated in order to achieve specific aims and outcomes."
Just in case you were wondering.
I've also found that I seem to be at the peak of my productivity during the Jan cram. Productive in the most fucking useless ways however. Chapter to revise? Sure I'll just sterilise the fridge, organise my wardrobe by colour, bake a chicken and ham pie and write a short novel first.
1001 Ways to Procrastinate Before You Die
or alternatively;
50 Shades of Bic
They're work in progress. My degree? It's a lack of progress in work. I think I try to convince myself that if I watch enough TED Talks on consumerism I'll be the fountain of business knowledge. There will be no need to revise a thing when I'm sipping on flat whites with aule Malcolm Gladwell, spouting off profound shite about choice being the choice of the people.
Yeah, you're right. I should probably pick up text book and stop typing incoherent bullshit over the internet. Katie Hopkins needs a purpose in life after all.
I thank you for joining me in the midst of my final degree of despair. Quite Literally. I'm away to have a wee cry while eating a cheese toastie. Women are apparently renowned multi-taskers after all.
Keep er' classy muckers.
