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It's my second friday night packed tightly into the confines of my bedroom, suffocated by reams and reams of printed paper. I've read up on the history of the world at least three times over in the space of eternity and I still haven't gotten close to half way to where I'm supposed to be. Brilliant way to spend the night, right?

Sometimes I realise that I've bitten off much more than I can chew in terms of trying to do first year history in the space of 10 weeks. Better people than I have come crashing down from their high horses and have been made to chew on pure dirt by trying to do this in the normal space of a year. I genuinely must be insane. I can't seem to remember what it was that made me think that I could take this on. What was going through my head that morning when I woke up and said, "You know what, let me take on this ridiculous workload." I was a chump.

I think I did this because if I'm very honest, I've been frustrated. My level of performance has dipped so below par lately that I kind of feel like I need to open myself up again to a world of insane challenges. I haven't had anything exciting to do in a long time and it's made me feel like I'm not moving forwards at all. I feel like I'm stuck in a rut. Every day is the same routine, wake up and be brilliant in a world of mediocre fishes and then go to bed and seethe at the lack of stimulation around. It's like a cesspit of dead ambition out there and what bothers me most is that it feels like it's all coming from me. I mean I've only just recently made up my mind that I want to go to Rhodes and that's why I'm punishing myself so much. I've spent too long sitting being indecisive and now that I've made up my mind, why am I complaining?

Haha, right now I'd kick to just be out with mates, away from all these books, away from all the feelings of blockheadedness. Tomorrow I need to flourish or I'll blow up.