I think this is just another piece of proof of how rapidly my life has changed. 17 weeks ago, if you’d told me to know my limits, I would’ve assumed you were talking about alcohol. I even have a little spinny wheel thing, telling me how many units is in a glass of wine/bottle of alcopop/etc.
Fast forward a few months and it means something completely different. It means that maybe I shouldn’t have gone to uni today. Maybe I should’ve listened to the ache in my back and the pain in my legs and the fact that I felt dizzy and sick and stayed in bed, or at least stayed at home and done some of my essay.
Instead I went in, made myself feel ill and then felt guilty for leaving early. I really can’t win with this.
I can’t wait until Sunday, when I can actually have a proper lie in. Even tomorrow, I’m working – showing people around the university, when I probably shouldn’t be because my legs will still be threatening to fall off at this point, but I’m a student and the pay is too good to refuse! Just got to keep thinking of Sunday.
Sunday Sunday Sunday.