Thursday I again unintentionally woke up early, got brekkie and a shower and studied Chinese. Proper like. This went on for the majority of the day as I sat, secluded in the Block 2 computer room, writing mundane sentences such as "This is my 57th cup of tea today" and "I do not speak Arabic at the hospital". I went to tutoring at 5:30, back at 7, and then more studying though a little more half-heartedly with JKwok zai block er computer fangjian, until 1am ish, after a particularly intense powernap left me looking horrendously drained.
Friday morning was more of the same, until I reached the kind of hour or so beforehand period where you take one of two approaches (both of which have the same outcome). There's the FECK IT I'M FECKED ANYWAY TRALALALALA approach, or the convincing-yourself-that-you-do-know-your-stuff approach. I like to think I sauntered into the exam ooozing pretentious self-assurance. I came out alive which is all that matters. I went for a quick swim, then back to my room before peer support at 4:30, which turned out to be actually at 4. Meh. No shkin off my back. At 7 we had muchos pizza in the spiritual centre then I popped back to my room, still with a horrible guilty cantstudyhaveexams feeling. I lazed about on my laptop, doing lots of nothing, when Áine persuaded me to get up and out. Had an uneventful evening but I needed it to shnap out of my monotonous exam mode.
Sa'urday I woke up at 7:06, inwardly screamed at myself NO YOU ARE GOING TO LIE IN, and then did so until 9:30 and 10:50 respectively. Once up, it was shopping time. After a huge fiasco involving lost moneys, I mean, even the mass e-mail brigade was engaged, I found me moolah in a clever place I'd found to hide it then totally forgotten about. I headed out happy as larry to Mong Kok first, where I picked up a denim waistcoat yoke and a dress in Me & G, and some MEGA HEELS and a top from H&M. Also some earrings that I fell in love with before realising that I didn't have my ears pierced anymore. I may do something about that. I got the MTR to Causeway Bay to go to Forever 21 and accidentally left through the wrong exit of the station, leading me lost for a mere few seconds before miraculously I glimpsed the monstrosity of a well packaged mass produced clothing warehouse. This offered up another top agus maxi dress. I went back to school, azzoluthely drained after the ridiculously long journey home then had me a shower and got dressed ter go out again. We left at 9:20ish much to Jason's dismay the poor divil. I'd decided to trial the day's reapings and all went miraculously well. I didn't cop out of wearing me heels, which, though mere wedges and not quite killer pavement stabbing mechanisms, kept me on my toes all night (chortle). Me faux-glamorous image may have been ruined when I had to eat that kebab over a wheelie-bin (bearing in mind that I had not once during my time consumed any other recreational substance - save a Galaxy bar), but there is genuinely no other way to eat those kebabs, let alone whilst retaining dignity. Got a taxi back with Alisher & Palpal and went to bed after grabbing those 20 precious minutes of internet. Feet did be grand too might I add, though the lingering taste of kebab was ever prominent.
Sunday got up at 8 and the world tasted like kebab. I went tutoring, got paid, came back, had brunch, then got ready for feeeetbol (world still tastes of kebab 3x teethbrushing and 10x chewing gum later). I was the only loser who bothered to turn up at the bus at 11:20 but soon enough we were all on our way to Happy Valley for our 6 hour tournament. Das pitch was wonderbar, the park being all surrounded by sooopah tall skyscrapers and that. After drawing our first match 1-1, I started reading the second Hunger Games book that had also been in me parcel and ate my weight in bananas (after applying my weight in suncream). Second match we won 2-0, earning us notre place dans le final. Khetkat streaked across the pitch completely naked at this point, and had to be tackled into modesty by the Chinese Naked Police.Top two out of six was prolly one of our better achievements of the year, especially as we were no longer playing butch teenage girls but now butch women with adoring kids and husbands on the side. They were already one-up on us in that they'd given birth. We lost the final 1-0, though I'd like it to be known that I did one-of-those-kicks-when-the-ball-is-coming-from-the-sky-and-you-just-randomly-or-perhaps-completely-on-purposefully-stick-up-your-foot-like-some-kind-of-gymnast-twisting-it-235-degrees-and-hit-it-hard-in-the-right-direction kicks. It's the most skillful I've ever felt. Sweating like a european in a humid country after strenuous exercise, we celebrated in style with our winnings of non-alcoholic champagne and dodgy baseball caps. The bus smelled rank but I stuck on the Strokes and all was well. Got back, had dindins, had a much needed shower, peed around on bookface and the likes then had a tension-filled room allocation meeting and ended up on the boys floor like the sluh I am. Wrote this and totes forgot to Skype the rentals. Will do so tomozzo. After finishing this book. Sayonara! x
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