Stressing

The stress levels have risen.

Mimi no longer straightens her hair. It's fuzzily beautiful though.

I am smoking more than I did before I started reducing my intake.

I don't eat but instead live off red bull and marshmallows.

Mimi has started cooking warm comfy food - but she cooks it and that's it. It's left for the others who share our kitchen.

This American girl in one of my classes noticed my stress levels and suggested I should turn to Jesus.

I have sent many e-mails to lecturers in the early hours of the morning convinced that I'm going to fail. It goes without saying no-one answered. Except the lovely one who is distraught that I'm not going to do a PhD, who simply said "You will pass with flying colours - stop worrying!"