Mostly lemon based

Category: General

  • Limits

    I have finally found something that scares me. My dissertation.

    The section I’m about to write is a puny 4,500 word, I’ve been thinking it was 6,000. But. I don’t feel like I know the papers well enough. I don’t feel prepared to write it. I’m fucking terrified. I keep looking at this other person’s that I printed off to get a ‘style’. It’s fine. If only I could *actually* feel like I could write it.

    I need to start, but I’m feeling slightly sick. It does, of course, make a difference that I actually care about this topic. I want to do it justice, not rattle off another managementese essay. The phrase “get a grip woman” springs to mind. Aaack. But dissertations… well. I need to get a good mark on this. I fudged my IP3 essay – which I expected to, but I’m also concerned about [whatever that previous essay was about, I can’t actually remember]. So this is my chance to make sure I get a decent final grade. There are no exams. This is it.

    And that’s why it’s scary.

  • Isn’t technology Brilliant!

    Because, right, they’ve made the MOT test in the UK all computerised right, which means that it’s all done by computers which is Brilliant. Right. And that means that when the computer network goes down. They can’t do any tests. Which is Brilliant! Aren’t computers Brilliant. So I can’t do my bike’s MOT test today because all the test places are saying the network’s gone down. Isn’t that Brilliant….

    [end of fast show reference]

  • The clumsy girl and the day

    So, it’s morning. I’ve had breakfast, watched Azumanga Daioh, had a shower and managed to check my bike’s brakes (spongy, but better. Added more fluid. Better still, still spongy though. Hopefully passable. I can now not pull them back to the bar). And I started to think about work. Grabbed breakfast bowl/mug/cafetiere, headed down the stairs and my ankle randomly and without warning gave way.

    I managed to save myself, and all the breakfast stuff except the spoon which did what I was expecting to do and skittered down the stairs.

    So, rather gingerly made my way down the stairs, got my fresh cup of Raspberry and Loganberry tea (which fails the blue test (it’s purple, like *all* fruit teas)) and decide to nip off and cut my toenails (I realise this is excitement personified) – during which process I manage to snap the nail clipper. I mean, completely snap it. Like ‘plink-crunk’ – which left me feeling a little shocked – especially as I’ve no idea where a chunk of it has gone.

    Then while scooping up the bits of broken nail clipper, I sneezed, scrabbling for a tissue I did think… what on earth is going on today. Did I hit the ‘clumsy + chaotic’ button on my alarm clock? Feh.

    Anyway. I need to book an MOT (place opens in about 30 mins, I think); and then write like a demon. Although I am exhausted, which I blame on everyone else keeping me up late.

  • Cherry LIVES! (Nearly)

    Well, to be accurate, Cherry is fine; she’s minutes from MOTable. It’s taken about 5 and a half hours of work (including the 30 minutes of me storming around the garage cursing the crosshead-screwdriver stealing pixies. I think they’re in the yellow bag. Where the yellow bag is I’m yet to find out. But it means I’m now down to a pathetic one, non hardened screwdriver).

    Also I ended up going and buying a new fork seal. Somewhere in my garage is another fork seal. I am slightly concerned that the other fork is probably leaking, and I’ve done nothing to fix it, but the evil ex-MZ dealer only had one fork seal. This is because they remain the only shop that sells Fork Seals in ones.

    At any rate, the fork was actually not too bad once I’d got it apart. It was, however, full of shit. I spent several hours attempting to clean it out. I *hope* it’s okay, but hey, we’ll find out tomorrow. If there’s a huge pool of oil in the garage then the answer is ‘no’.

    While I was there I also bought a brake switch. I’m a little unclear as to whether she needs one, which is lucky, because it a: didn’t fit (wrong thread), and b: broke (it was plastic so I was hoping I could just cross thread it, but sadly it was too brittle). This means that there’s now a chunk of plastic in the hole where it’s meant to go :(

    I also ended up swapping the entire brake system over from Claire to Cherry, because as I was looking at it I noticed that the brake hose had almost worn through and the calliper on Cherry really, really needs a service. Despite my best efforts I have been unable to successfully bleed the brakes on Cherry. Hopefully it’ll firm up over night.

    And the oil that came out from the gearbox, not much of it, and very thin. Suspciously thin. It’s possible that the crank case seals have gone, so I’ll have to keep an eye on that. It may be that the good engine’ll have to go in. But she sounds supringly okay. She runs okay, the gearbox feels okay so far (not tried third),
    Nikki popped round and found the hand protectors and the decent mirrors, so they’ve gone on. The 40 Watt club sticker’s been ductaped to the front mudguard, and much ductape is covering the holes in the very worn chain gaiters. The chain’s been greased. Err. Yeah. I also discovered the sidelight bulb had blown – so I thought ‘I’ll pinch the one from Claire’. Great plan, only it’s blown. Of course I realised after I’d put the bulb in, put the headlamp back together, wiggled various connectors… Bleh. Never mind :-)

    She goes Ring-ning-ning-clatter-clatter-Riiiiiing-ning-ning. She’s red. She’s gonna be good. Yeah.

    So, jobs for pre MOT: Adjust mirrors, fit sidelight bulb, faff with brakes some more. Pray that the brake switch isn’t necessary. Let’s hope I can get an MOT tomorrow so.

  • Woooooot.

    The world is peachy keen and super cool today. Why you ask… WHY?

    Well, because:

    1. I have the bits to fix my motorcycle in a little box behind me.
    2. I have completed the 2000 word essay.
    3. I have completed all my EU Packs.
    4. I have completed my learning outcomes.
    5. The bike is insured from tomorrow.
    6. The only thing between me and no-more-uni-work is my dissertation. A teeny little 6000 word story, 2500 word conclusion and proofing and making the suggested changes to the 500 word abstract and 1000 word introduction.

    So, the world rawks; James ultra-super-rawks for proofing my essay and suggesting the really bloody good changes which turned my essay from ‘okay’ to ‘fan-bloody-tastic’ (at least, as far as it can go for a tedious meta-analysis of a reflection). I’m now going to munch on an apple, make a cup of tea, and see if I can’t turn Cherry into a working bike before lunch.

  • Fashion Statements

    Tonight I’ve chosen to make a fashion statement. Specifically, tonight’s statement is:

    “I’m a clumsy pig who’s managed to poor coffee all down herself”.

    In other news, coffee tastes better when drunk.

  • Ah, working, yes, hrm.

    I spent half an hour this morning trying to convince myself to get up, the thought of yet more nursing work just made me want to curl up in a heap. Nikki rang, and on discovering I wasn’t up said that it didn’t matter, but that prompted me to crawl out of my burrow and go ‘I s’pose I should work’; so I got up, and made breakfast in that fuzzy way that I do when I’m really not very awake. Usually this involves a couple of attempts to get things right. But in the end the cereal ends up in the bowl, with the milk and the light sprinkling of sugar, the coffee in the cafetiere, the milk in the cup and the orange in the glass.

    So upstairs it all came, because I am a geek and rarely watch telly over breakfast; like some read newspapers, I read LJ and boing boing, and occasionally CBC, and even more occasionally the BBC News site. And then Nikki rang again, she’d discovered the ultimate crapitude of busses in Bristol; and wondered if I’d give her a lift to collect a courtesy car.

    So, I mootched through breakfast, made my way through the shower, and headed out. A cup of coffee round at Nikki’s and I gave her a lift, stopped off to buy my ‘lil nephew birthday prezzies and a card, had paranoia about his age, bought petrol, returned home, wrapped them (the presents) up, and noticed that the CD Walkman on Freecycle was good to be picked up before 1300. I also saw my note to myself about bike insurance, so arranged bike insurance to start on Thursday. Rang the CD Walkman girl to check it was still okay. Boxed up the prezzies to send. Drove to pick up the CD Walkman, Sent the package, returned home..

    I’ve singlarly failed to do any work at all today. Any. It’s 1315 and I’ve done none. I’m prevaricating now, because I really am very bored of working. Really very bored. But on we go, I’ve an essay to do entitled… “A 2000 Word Critical Evaluation From Practice”. I just want to curl up in a dark corner right at this moment. I am utterly fed up with this degree now. If this *mattered*, if it would make the minutest tiniest bit of difference to my practice, then I might be able to care, but I can’t. Especially watching, as I am, the destruction of the NHS, with the very real risk that I’ll be qualified and without a full time job. I find it very hard to care about my course when my potential employer is being decimated by cuts, and inept incompetent managers are hiring more inept, incompetent underlings to cover the fact that they’re fucking the NHS right up.

  • Return to planet Earth

    Okay, I’ve ceased ranting. Mostly because I realised that the learning outcomes tied into the questions way better than the ones in the pack, which made life a lot easier. It’s now finally printed and done. That’s all of them done. All of them. All the EU Packs are *done*. I just need to go down to Bath and hand them in.

    In Canada shaped news I won the auctions for some of the parts to convert my dearest beloved Rebecca to Left Hand Drive. It might be two years away, but LHD minors are pretty uncommon here and so getting the parts is quite a challenge. I’ve even won one of the incredibly rare LHD accelerator pedals. This may seem sad to you, but it’s a little step in the direction of where I want to be.

    I also won the bits to put Cherry together. Let’s hope that Cherry gets an MOT when all the bits are put on, I really could do with being able to ride to work.

  • Paranoia

    I’m beginning to think that the entire purpose of the Midwifery pack is to wind me up, and to cause me as much stress as is humanly possible. I’d just declarred it finished. Actually finished. Ready to print finished. And I decided, because of paranoia to burn a copy of my work folder to CD (I know, Lauren, you leant me that harddisk, but somehow some 6th sense just said ‘don’t plug it in, just burn a CD, you know that works). While it burned the disk I picked up the black (hrm, evil?) folder I’d selected to put the paperwork in.

    At some point in my organised phase I put the ‘Portfolio Management’ page in – this came with, but separate from, the learning pack. It’s the page which gets signed to say “there is content in here that meets these learning outcomes”. It lists the learning outcomes. It never occured to me to check that the table of learning outcomes in the pack matched the ones on the fracking portfolio management page. Oh no. No it didn’t.

    It never fracking occured to me they have one set in the fracking pack and an entirely different set on the page with the signatures on. No. This is because I am clearly failing to imagine every possible outcome. I have therefore spent an *hour* reading through the pack working out which questions meet which outcomes for the wrong sodding outcomes.

    AAAAAAuuuuuuuuuggggggghhhhhhhhh. BASTARD BASTARD people. FRACK.

    Now I’ll go do it *again*. Rewrite the table. I have now, officially, ceased to care.

  • Got you you bastards…

    Due to the hilariously witty nature of the Midwives at my uni, the EU pack stated as it’s final question: Read Smith, 1995. Compare to your plan.

    This was cunning, because it didn’t include any papers by ‘Smith’ at all in the reference list. None. Not so much as a cheesey biscuit. And yet, it seemed likely that there would be more than one paper (and indeed more than one book) published in 1995 by people called ‘Smith’. So, while at uni today I attempted to find the pack from which I’d photocopied the references; but it’d vaporised. The Librarian didn’t know (a) it existed (b) what it might be called or (c) why it, and it’s little sister the Mental Health EU pack had vaporised leaving only the Child pack lurking. I’ll let him off though, ‘cos he did manage to find the video, which when you search for it on the puny student interface to their database doesn’t appear (even just using random single keywords from the title doesn’t pull it up, but if you put it into the Uberpowerful Librarian Only search it miraculously appears *sigh*).

    Aaanyway, so I searched for books by ‘Smith’ in the Midwifery section, published in 1995. There was one, but it didn’t fit with the rest of the question. So, I tried papers… by ‘Smith’ filed under ‘Midwif*’ published in 1995. This found 346 papers, but again didn’t find anything actually appropriate. I rechecked in the hope that the missing EU pack had reappeared (you’re not allowed to even take them out of the section they’re in, there’s actually a separate photocopier in there with them, so where they’ve gone really is a mystery). It hadn’t.
    At this point, swearing quietly, I declared my search pointless and headed home. Here I’ve sat going ‘oh, bloody bollocks. One sodding question I can’t answer. One’. And then I thought. Hrm. Papers + Smith + 1995 + labour. And there, with a Full Text link is the paper. Should anyone else be interested it is:

    Smith, S. 1995. Express delivery. Nursing Standard. 10(12-14). pp 20-21.

    So, uh. There. Score: Kate 1 Midwifery EU Pack 0