London I Confess...I'm that Girl

     The time in Texas was abnormal in that it felt as if there should be no return to London from the closure obtained before leaving.  While at home there were clear indications of London’s affect upon my character when interacting with friends and family.  My use of British terminology such as ‘toilet’, ‘til’, and ‘cue’ provided much diversion.

    The three weeks passed quite quickly while providing a satisfying resurgence on returning to London.  Any fears regarding employment, student loans, and so forth were put aside to focus upon completing my thesis and preparing to move back to Texas.

      Such focused optimism accompanied my walk to university the morning after my return.  Since my lease was due to end, it was decided best to go to the library each day in-order to allow the estate agents ample time to show the flat.  Along my walk that warm sunny morning, a couple with a son stopped me to enquire about directions over the hedge from Nessie’s school on the outer circle of Regent’s Park.

“I’m not really sure about the specific street, but the post code saw N1 which means it’ll be on the other side of Regent’s Park,” I stated causing the couple to look at me dejectedly.

“How do we get there?” the gentleman asked.

“Well, you can walk around Regent’s Park if you want.  Or, you could take a taxi there.  The driver will know exactly where it is.  The other way would be to take a tube, but it wouldn’t be the fastest since you’re going to have to change lines,” I explained with hand motions.

   On instinct my eyes glanced across the street to see two dark haired ladies holding boxes while walking towards an entrance to Regent’s Park.  Not far behind them was a medium sized dark blonde haired gentleman smirking at me.

Oh great, the school people are back.  I wonder if that means Nessie is back as well.  Whatever, it is only for four weeks.  It won’t be that big of a deal.  After all, it’s all in my head.

    The rest of the journey to university was made with ease.  

   A sense of accomplishment soon came with the news of passing my stats re-sit.  However, any excitement quickly dissipated on learning my drafted thesis was not deemed adequate enough to pass by my project coordinator a week after returning from London.  Such anxiety almost brought me to tears with the knowledge there were only three weeks left until the thesis was to be submitted.  Further, my supervisor would be gone the week before submission, thus leaving me only two weeks to complete a draft to send to her for approval.  The task seemed quite daunting, for she required a majority of the thesis to be reworked, including the statistical examination of my participants.  What took over a month to complete before, now needed to be completed in a few days.

     It seemed as any disparaging remark made by Mr Darcy, Lady Catherine de Bourgh, or Miss Bingley were upon me at once.  Like Elizabeth Bennet, the only thing which could be done was to maintain a steady chin level while walking forward.

Thank goodness I brought a huge thing of coffee back with me.

    Thus, my days consisted of long hours within the library before going to the gym to unwind.  The continuous reminder of my clients from the last placement were brought to mind for motivation whenever stressful tears threatened to fall.

I’m a good person.  I can do this.  It is only three weeks of hell, and then it will only be a bad memory.  I can do this.

“Honey, why don’t you go see a movie or something?” my mom asked one evening while talking to her on the phone.  “You can use the credit card.”

“I don’t have the time,” I responded willing the tears back.

“You need a break,” she soothed.

“I’ll have a break once it is done,” I stated while rubbing my constricted heart.  “It’ll all be over soon.”

“Yes it will,” my mom agreed.  “Then it will simply be a memory.”

“Yep, it will simply be a memory,” I agreed.

      Such conversations seemed vital to my sanity while completing the work needed for my thesis.  My sessions at the gym also proved quite important to diminish increased levels of stress.  The endorphins which carried over while walking home allowed for a time of pure indifference to the prospect of not earning my degree due to another moment of lacking intellectual prowess.