Stack of books freshly picked up from the library this morning.
I love the smell of new stationary. That’s perhaps the only reason I am still a student and the only reason that makes me love September – it reminds me of a simpler time in which I used to raid all the stationary shops in search for lovely bits for my collection with the excuse of the new school year, and my mom would allow me to buy some and not just look. My mom would be so generous as to pay for a set of Bic pens, those with all four colours and an extra blue one. Crystal Bic, not Orange, cause I like my ink flow regular, not skinny. That would be the highlight of the month and it’d make me forget that the summer was over and it was all back to school for everybody.
Stingy times were always the regular times at the Llamas’ household, so I was only allowed a few notepads per year, which considering my writing stream, was a bit over-stingy. Mom would let me buy an additional notepad mid-year if I was running out of paper. I used to fill the house in paper, mind you, so my mom wanted to restrict my writing, and I understand her now. Those days are gone, but heading to the uni bookstore and getting myself a new Pukka pad, smelling of fresh, untouched paper, still makes me feel good about it. I have read some blogs lately that underline that need to get new stationary every so often as a common issue amongst PhD students. I feel the same when I freshly pick new books from the library, even if I know I might never even read them. It means a new project is on the cards.
Following the last post about being lazy and smug with my own work, I finished (as I had set myself to) rewriting this article on Good Friday, revised the grammar and the referencing yesterday and sent it for review, which means that I am 100% finished with my Project One (yes, capital letters), and I am moving on to Project Two. It feels great because my first expectations were to finish Project One last December, but that was obviously not going to happen taken into account the amount of hours I work, the amount of hours I study and the sick I was last year. Despite having moved to Part Time, I have finished the first part of my thesis plan only four months later than originally planned by Full Time standards. Mini clap to me, punch the air, yeah. So moving into a new project is not only exciting because of it being “new” and shiny and all, but because it means I succeeded in something I had many odds against. Punch the air again please, yeah.
I am now sitting in my office trying to work out how to take onto the next project in a wise time scale, and, as expected, I am listing new books to read, sending interlibrary loan requests, Gantt charting my research, and brainstorming all sorts of crazy ideas into a new Pukka pad that has been sitting politely in one of the drawers waiting for the new project to begin (I accidentally anticipated myself by a month, and bought it in a rush). That must be the reason I am still a student: the smell of freshly new Pukka pads and the excitement of beginning a new project. What a geek.