It's over. The work of another term is done, and the seven major projects, totalling more than 20,000 words are complete until I start again in late January 2009. It feels good to have finally reached the top of the mountain that is my third semester of theological study.
Over the past two weeks, I have noticed adrenalin knocking its way through my carefully mapped out schedule, forcing me to work at ridiculous hours of the morning, mostly because I could not sleep. Writing essays is a test of psychological as well as intellectual muscle, as I'm sure you can identify with. I've struggled on through, fighting "the wall". The worst thing is, just as you think you've crossed the line, then remember it needs a title page, stylistically correct footnotes and a detailed bibliography!
It's as if I were stumbling towards the top of the mountain, ring in hand, trying to avoid the enchantment gained from peering at its inscription. If essays are people then this one has definately been a conspirator. I set aside some time to work, and my laptop was locked away out of my reach for half a day. Then my only pen ran out. To cap it all, today I discovered that I had run out of plastic files to hand the essay in, in. And WH Smith had sold out. A divine conspiracy, some would say, but clearly someone in Ryman in the Arndale Shopping Centre likes me - I even managed to wangle student discount!
What puzzles me is the warring, aggressive spirit with which I have to approach essays in order to complete them. I don't understand it really, wish I did. The view of the painting is marvellous. I'm sure I "missed a bit". Thankfully his grace is sufficient for my mistakes. He sees the bigger picture; a busy market relaxing after a long day's trade. The storeholders are exhausted, the shoppers are ready to drop; I'm off to relax for a bit
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