It’s the end of week 2. Dun dun duuuun. It’s not actually that long, actually, but it feels like I’ve been here for ages and ages. In the good way, rather than the bad ‘oh my god I’ve been here my whole life and I wish I could do something else’. More in the ‘yay I’ve stopped getting lost everytime I leave my flat and I’ve finally learnt which dial corresponds to which hob’ sense. That’s good, for me.
Lectures have been pretty cool, so far. I’m thinking that’s because we’ve only actually done introduction lectures so far. The seminars were better once we worked out how to talk to each other, and we had a different seminar leader who didn’t just monologue all the time. Oh, those PhD students. You’d think they’d know better.
Apart from the hill on the way to lectures (it’s like a free gym, only more depressing and with a humid room to get to. It’s the other way round from a gym, really.), everything’s basically great.
But there’s just one thing. All the damn reading. All. the. damn. reading. It’s a music course! Why have I got 6 chapters to read by next week?! I swear I’ve only had like four lectures? How did that happen?
Those aren’t just any squiggles. That’s me demonstrating a type of harmony. Yeah. That’s how I do my notes.
Kind of boring looking, if you can read it. Anyway, it turns out some chapters are manageable lengths, and some are so long you stop caring about Early Music and the role of the composer by the time you get halfway through.
#nowIhaveacold #butitmightbeFresher’sflu #mythroathurts