Wednesday, 31 December 2014

New Year, New Bullet Journal

When it comes to organisation I've always liked to believe that there is method in my madness. I've tried many different organisational methods but they never seemed to last. I've tried planners, various apps, writing stuff on post it notes, which kind of worked; that is until I began losing them. At one point I even resorted to writing on my arms; you couldn't lose an arm now could you?  But recently, after having a little amble around the web;  I came across this new idea called bullet journalling by Ryder Carroll. If you haven't heard of it before, he explains it rather well in his video found here.

After, watching the video and browsing through the well organised website, I was sold. It was a system that allowed me to quickly and efficiently jot down things that I needed to do or remember and to categorise them so they were easy to identify and refer back to. The flexibility of it meant that you don't end up feeling guilty if you miss out a couple of days (or weeks...) here and there, as you  only write down what you need, when you want to. Plus the prospect of a new notebook was rather tempting. 

Having seen previous methods crash and burn I decided to do a test run. After a month or so of trialing it out, me and my test bullet journal were still going strong. I could write down as much or as little as I liked. I could keep track of daily tasks and still have space to doodle or jot down quotes or interesting ideas. No more wistfully gazing at beautifully organised filofaxes and planners online; I had finally found something that worked for me. 

After spotting it in various stationery stores and reading promising reviews, I decided on this emerald Leuchtturm 1917 to serve as my bullet journal. 




The paper inside felt really smooth and the lines aren't too bold. But one of the biggest bonus features was that the pages were all numbered and there was a built in index which made it ideal for its new purpose. I haven't really written much in it yet but I might do another post in the near future to demonstrate how I organise and use it and with more demonstrations of my excellent photography skills (ie.stick random filters on things in the hope that it looks vaguely attractive and fancy).

It's nearly midnight and the end of 2014. So to whoever is reading this, I hope you have an awesome new year and may you shine and prosper and all that jazz. 

Cheerio :) 



Sunday, 14 December 2014

So...

I honestly can't believe it's been 2 months since I last posted anything. It wasn't so much that I was busy or I didn't have anything to say rather, if I'm honest I just kept putting this off and it just kind of escalated from there. Let me try and explain.

When I last posted on here, I was feeling positive about the future. Ready to go out there, guns a blazing and with the promise that I'd be more optimistic and just try my best. Well, that appeared to last for all of about a week before I reverted back to a state of blind panic and general gloominess.

I'm not even sure what happened and I don't think it was one thing specifically, rather a series of things. See it's often said that there are two kinds of people; the optimists who are forever hopeful and the pessimists who like to anticipate the worst. I'm not sure which category I'd fit in. I don't necessarily think that the world is a dark place nor do I think that all people are inherently evil; in fact it's quite the opposite. I am full of optimism when it comes to most people and I'm forever collecting happy and inspirational quotes to share. It's just when it comes to myself I am far more hesitant to believe something good is going to happen. I tend to anticipate the worst because in a way if that doesn't happen then it can only be better. So what does that make me? An optimistic pessimist or a pessimistic optimist perhaps?          

As of late, more and more little things started getting to me. It started off as just a nagging feeling in the back of my mind that suddenly escalated into being stuck in this dark gloom that I just couldn't shake off no matter what I tried. For instance one day, I decided to try writing out my notes on narrow ruled paper, in some kind of attempt to mix things up and change my mood. Half way through, I suddenly felt this overwhelming feeling that something was wrong. Suddenly the lines just seemed too small, my writing too scrawny and worst of all I wasn't even taking in any of what I had just written. In that moment I realised I hated narrow ruled paper and I wanted back my familiar medium college ruled paper. The paper I'd grown up with and had gotten used to. Where the lines weren't too big or too small but, to quote good old Goldilocks, somehow 'just right'. Of course, it was clear that this was about much more than the lined paper.

I know that people say that talking about it helps but I don't really know how to and I don't want to turn into the person that's forever complaining of how everything sucks and just generally rain all over everyone else's parade with my doom and gloom. So I just keep just stuff things in my metaphorical box and on the outside I generally appear cool as a cucumber. I am the master of sweeping things under the carpet and it's gotten to the point where I don't even know how to cry or let things out anymore. But every once in a while the box gets too full, things start pouring out and the cracks start to show. If I'm honest after years of just ignoring stuff, I have no real ways of actually dealing with things.

When I first started uni, I had this picture of what things would be like. I was far more optimistic. I had a plan and it finally felt like things were starting to work out. And now? Now it just feels like I've lost control of everything and I just don't know anymore. I hate feeling sorry for myself and I know that my life could be so much worse, but that doesn't make me feel any better. So now I'm stuck in this existential crisis of sorts; obsessively drinking mugs of green tea, trying to piece things back together again.              

"I'd like to be my old self again but I'm still trying to find it. " - T.S  

Monday, 13 October 2014

And so it begins....

It seems like forever has gone by and at the same time it feels like yesterday since I last posted something on here. A lot has happened since. The pleasantries of welcome week are over and now the work has finally began. I'm not complaining or anything, I know full well what I've signed up for; but if I'm perfectly honest a part of me is terrified. I'm no stranger to indepent learning but the fact that it's now all on me is rather scary. And now I'm scared that I won't have done enough. That I'm not going to be enough.

But after a period of blind panic I've decided to just give it my best shot. At the end of the day, that's all any of us can do and whatever happens, happens. That's not to say that everything's dandy now; because I still have my moments but I'm learning to be more optimistic.

What really made my day this week, in the midst of my gloom, was the kind words of encouragement from a really amazing person that I've always kind of looked up to. Anyway, you know who you are and if you're reading this thank you. It really meant a lot to me and you really made my day.

At the moment my favourite module by far is human anatomy.  Its something that I always dreamed of learning and now I finally get to do it. Plus drawing lots of pretty diagrams means that I get to indulge in my stationery addiction and put my various pens, markers and colouring pencils to good use.

We also had our first anatomy practical. I wasn't sure how I would handle coming face to face with real human body parts from a deseased person. But I really suprised myself in that it didn't really phase me that much. I mean it was somewhat surreal but I just seemed to get on with it. I guess I just somehow managed to detatch from it all and remind myself that these individuals had selfeslsy given their bodies to benifit others and I owed it to them to make the most of it.  I haven't encountered any whole cadavers. I don't know how I would react to that. A whole dead body is a whole different ball park to a limb. I did however, peep in the room next door and saw what I presume were cadavers in some kind of body bags. But it definitely made me stop and think.  It was almost  like a reminder that we aren't as immortal as we like to think. It was hard to think that those cadavers were once alive and they had real hopes, dreams and fears and friends and families that loved them.

I would say I'm definitely enjoying my time at uni so far. I've met some amazing people and I guess I'll just have to see where it takes me.

This is one of my favourite quotes of the week.

I guess that's all I have to say for now.  So till the next time. 

Cheerio :)

Monday, 22 September 2014

T is for Train...

Do you know what else the letter t is for? Trauma. Let me explain. Having grown up relatively close to my primary and secondary school I never had much need for the train and more often than not, got the bus or walked. The train therefore, was reserved for 'special' long journeys or school trips which always had the teacher's in a state as they obsessively stopped every 5 mins to do head counts or see if we we're holding hands with our buddies. I suppose the haze of nostalgia may be why I held such an idealised view of train journeys. Train's seemed to be filled with these smartly dressed business people and it was always relatively quiet. Buses, however, seemed to be the complete antithesis. Filled with screaming babies in prams, screaming school children and sometimes even screaming adults. Don't get me wrong, I love buses and they're a great way to get around but to my younger self, they didn't have quite the same appeal. But who could blame me; I grew up watching shows like Thomas the Tank Engine. Thomas the Double Decker Bus doesn't quite have the same ring to it. Anyway, now that I have to commute to university and get the train nearly every day, I've finally seen, or should I say remembered, the dark side of this so called utopia.

Our story begins on a dreary Monday morning. Despite the bleak weather I refused to be deterred from having a good day. I had left earlier than usual and had planned for extra time to go to the library before my first lecture. So as I stood breathing in the freshly brewed coffee from the catering stall while browsing through a metro the first train arrived. As the doors opened I was faced with what can only be described as madness. People were packed so tightly together that it appeared as if they had melded into one giant organism.I was half convinced that people would start bursting out the carriage from how densely packed it was. Alas, no one was able to get on and the train went off. Having left early, I was still on time so I simply waited for the next train. Only the next train was cancelled for some reason or another. But it gets better, the next train was so packed it didn't even stop. By now the platform was beginning to get really crowded and people were starting to get agitated. The cool exterior of these smart business men and women was beginning to crack. You could almost see their game faces fall into place as steel determination set in their eyes. They were getting on the next train one way or another. This then led to an elaborate day dream of people acting like wild animals on an African savannah clawing and throwing other people off the train so they could get on. Luckily, I some how managed to get stuffed on to the next train.Which brings me back to T for trauma. I know your thinking that's a bit of a strong word to use and perhaps it is. But for now it's the only one that best describes how that journey felt. If you search for the definition of trauma in Google you are met with two definitions. The first being ''a deeply distressing or disturbing experience'' and the second being ''physical injury''. It's fair to say I was subjected to both. This wasn't the bus where the driver could regulate who got on and off, to keep the number of passengers at a safe level. Even if the train driver could see through the camera's there wasn't really much they could do. So if I thought the train couldn't get any more packed; boy was I about to be proven wrong.

It seems people at the next stations were equally, if not more determined to get on the train. More people were pushing themselves on despite people pleading that they were being crushed. But no humanity failed to see sense and the carriage became so packed that it was hard to breath. Having your face pressed against a suit drenched in cologne didn't help matters either. I was convinced that this was the end, This was how I would die. Never before had I felt so claustrophobic. But things were about to get worse. A woman made a joke that she now knew how sardine felt in tin cans. But this wasn't a joke. Unlike the sardines, we were still alive, for how much longer I don't know, but the point remained. We needed oxygen and the only obvious source of air was the tiny windows and if you looked hard enough you could even see the glass misting up, Or perhaps that was just my vision from the low oxygen levels. Things would then turn for the worse as the sound of bag pipes began to fill the carriage. Perhaps someone was simply expressing their joy for Scotland still being a part of the UK. But fair to say I was definitely feeling the closeness and unity. Nothing like having brief case pressed into your back to evoke feelings of kinship for your fellow countrymen and women. Nonetheless the source of the interesting ringtone was soon revealed. A smartly dressed lady hurriedly apologised and began to root around in her bag for her phone. However, it appears that she forgot that other people were in close proximity to her and repeatedly jabbed me in the ribs and the abdomen with a surprising amount of force and continued to do so for a good couple of minutes till she located it. At this point I was convinced that I had ruptured some organ or another and was now not only about to die from hypoxia but internal bleeding. It didn't help that some poor man was coughing away, propelling microbes across the entire carriage. Somehow it all came to an end, as people began to get off the train and I could finally breathe. A tube ride and a speed walk later I made it on time, albeit with a very sore left side.

Fair to say I've learn't my lesson and have no desire to experience the 'rush hour crush' again, and will be getting an earlier train. But hey, if you have a rush hour story that you'd like to share feel free to leave a comment below :)


Friday, 19 September 2014

Hey...

Hi there! If there is anyone out there actually reading this. For some strange reason, while writing this 'momentous' first post, a mini film of Neil Armstrong's moon landing keeps playing in my mind. I suppose I can strangely see the parallels that my weirdly wired mind may have drawn. Him landing on the moon having a wander around the unknown singing ''hippety hoppety''could in some distant way be reminiscent of me starting this blog, humming said tune and similarly having a wander round the unfamiliar 'blog world'. Though clearly that's where the so called similarities end. While Armstrong's moon landing marked a momentous scientific achievement for mankind as a whole and inevitably changed the course of history; the start of this blog however, is likely to largely go unnoticed. As for it changing the course of history, well hey, a girl can dream can't she? ( insert taking over the world daydream)

Talking of dreaming, as the title of this blog suggests I have a habit of drifting off into daydreams (kind of like J.D. from Scrubs who is beyond awesome except I just end up looking like a real weirdo). Inevitably this leads to some hilarious and downright awkward situations which I'll be sure to write about. As for the purpose or theme of this blog, I honestly have no idea. For now I guess it's to chronicle my life and just any random musings I may have. 

I guess I'm supposed to say a bit about myself now. Well apart from the daydreaming thing, I am admittedly a stationery and book addict. There's just something about a new pack of pens or a new notebook that fills me up with a ridiculous amount of joy. Don't even get me started on the smell of new books. But that's for another time. As it stands, I've just started a degree in biomedical science so I guess I can call myself a biomed student now. I'm an awful dancer and I'm still scared of the dark and dementors, amongst other things despite being 'an adult' now. Anyway, I guess that's it for now. Follow this blog, if that's how this works (I've yet to fully master this whole thing) or just stick around and have a read. I'll probably be cringing about this whole post later but hey ho, it is what it is. 

  Cheerio :)