Tag: coursework

A Few More Hours In The Day, Please

Well, here I am again, finding I can’t keep up with everything I need to do, and my head is spinning! I’ve had to be out all day today; tomorrow, I have some work to do on a project; Saturday, my best friend is coming for lunch; and on Sunday, I said I’d go along to the local Quakers Meeting House to accompany a friend to a service for the first time. It should be interesting, and I am looking forward to it. I also have a lot of coursework to do, as I’m getting behind on that, too. Please, forgive me, once again, for missing some of your blogs for now. I need a few more hours in the day, or perhaps, a few more days in the week. Anyone here got a few to sell, by any chance šŸ˜!?

Add to all that the severe pain šŸ˜–I still have following my botched tooth extraction. I’m on stronger medication than morphine to try and get on top of the pain. It does render me a bit incapable sometimes, as I keep nodding off. It’s difficult to be productive when your brain is frequently ‘logging out šŸ˜¶!’ The medication is making my hands shake, too, so I constantly make mistakes when typing. All I can say is, “Thank goodness for *Grammarly!”

Anyway, I’ll leave it there for now. I humbly apologise for not reading your brilliant work recently. I am in the process of writing a poem, but I think that’s about all I can manage for the moment.

I know you are all kind and understanding, and you may be fed up with me pleading “overload” again, but I’d rather be honest about things than just suddenly disappearing into the ether.

I may be able to read a few blogs over my busy weekend, but I’ve learned not to allow myself to get exhausted. I know my health is important, whether physical, mental or emotional. I wish you all really well and I hope that you enjoy your weekend, whatever you are doing. If you’re alone and don’t want to be, I send you kind thoughts, calm and peace ā˜®.

That’s all for now … Much Love, Ellie Xx šŸ’“

Image by atlascompany on Freepik

Blowing A Gasket (A Nonsense Poem)

BLOWING A GASKET*

I woke up bright and early as the sun rose in the sky
to find my laptop šŸ’» failing, so I called my techie guy
I was all in a dither; Iā€™m addicted to this thing
I could have read a book, but I have no discipline

My techie guy was busy, so he couldnā€™t come around
An end to this disaster just wasnā€™t being found
I sat here all frustrated and did not know what to do
I racked my brains, and then, my blooming gasket* blew šŸ¤Æ

Oh, what a mess it made, spread out across the floor
It seeped into the carpet and crept underneath the door
The cat šŸˆ slipped on the lino and banged her dainty head
I ran out to the kitchen to make sure she wasnā€™t dead

I watched it trickle down the walls and onto my bed šŸ›
Where would it go to next? My heart was full of dread
It soaked into the duvet, and the pillowcase got wet
This was such a rare occurrence; one Iā€™d never forget

I was beginning to despair; I began to give up hope
I really didnā€™t know how long Iā€™d be able to cope
I must try something else, but I did not know quite what
The gasket had leaked everywhere, and Iā€™d lost the plot šŸ„“

My desperation spread, forming puddles in my brain
I got a cloth and wiped the yuck off my window pane
I urgently needed a real expert on the job
My techie guy rang later, and I cried and I sobbed šŸ˜¢

Just half an hour later, he turned up and rang the bell
By this time, I really wasnā€™t feeling very well šŸ¤¢
He spent more than an hour here but couldnā€™t fix the issue
I sobbed again and asked if heā€™d pass me a clean tissue

He left just after that; I knew I had to sort it out
But I had tried, and I tried, and was now so full of doubt šŸ˜¬
I grabbed my carpet cleaner, a mop and a bucket
But all to no avail, so I gave up and said, ā€œOh f— it!!ā€

*Gasket – To blow a gasket means to get angry or enraged. I used the term here to describe how I visualised that anger and despair spreading everywhere.

AN EXPLANATION

This morning, my computer completely crashed. I tried everything I could think of to remedy the situation, although I am no way an expert, so didn’t really know what I was doing. I phoned my son, who said to do a system restore, which I did. Nothing happened! A big fat nothing! I tried that again but still no luck. I blew a *gasket!

I had so much to do today – coursework, blog reading and some financial workings out, and here we are already at nearly 7pm, and I have done nothing. Finally, I phoned my neighbour, and luckily, her son said I can borrow his spare laptop for a couple days (bless him). My techie guy said he’ll come back in the week to have another look at my computer. Patience is a virtue, but it’s something I don’t have right now. So, that’s given me the chance to write this post. Above is a poem I wrote this afternoon to pass the time. It’s a nonsense poem that crept into my head while trying to think of solutions.

I’ve now typed it into my blog to explain that I’ve lost ALL my tabs, every single one. I had lots of blogs open, ready to try and catch up with. I’ve got no way to trace them, and although I have a few notifications in my email, I feel awful that I’ve missed so many that I wanted to read. Honestly, I could cry šŸ˜­.

(Image by cookie_studio on Freepik)

Oh, No, Not Again … (Poem)

Oh, no, not another day of the inability to write
Iā€™ve started seven pieces; not one of them is right
Frustration is building rapidly, hour after hour
Iā€™ve lost my sense of humour; my expression rather dour

I had a late night yesterday; is that why I canā€™t write?
I look a little pale, and my complexionā€™s rather white
The catā€™s a little better, though; she’s lying in her box
Sheā€™s peering out the window at the seagull flocks

Iā€™m struggling to get this weekā€™s piece of coursework done
Iā€™m stuck and not finding it easy, and itā€™s not a lot of fun
Iā€™m scouring the dictionary for words that I can use
Resorting to Thesaurus while Iā€™m desperate for a snooze

Often, when I write, the words just seem to flow
Today, I should have finished this at least six hours ago
Itā€™s Motherā€™s Day, for goodness sake; I ought to take a rest
This isnā€™t an exam or an English language test!

I donā€™t know where the time has gone; itā€™s almost time for dinner
If this was a competition, I surely wouldnā€™t be the winner
The eveningā€™s drawing in now, and soon it will be dark
Iā€™m at the point of giving up, so s%d this for a lark!!




Photo by Yan Krukau: https://www.pexels.com

Feathers (Fiction)

Flash Fiction (My First Attempt)

Over the weekend and today, I wrote two pieces of coursework to send to my tutor. One was a 2,500-word true-life short story, which I may share another time. The other, today, was my first-ever attempt at flash fiction (under 300 words). As I said to my blogging friend, Jeff Cann, yesterday, I never write fiction, having always said I can’t do it, so this is unusual for me. I thought I’d share it with you here.

FEATHERS

Andrea was washing the dishes when she was startled by a scream from outside. She hobbled over to the kitchen window and looked to see where the sound had come from. A minute later, the phone rang. As she answered it, the irate voice of her neighbour shouted, ā€œyour bloody cat has killed a pigeon in my garden,ā€ to which Andrea replied, ā€œIā€™m really sorry, but how do you know it was my Lucy? Sheā€™s never caught a bird before; several cats prowl this area.ā€

The voice yelled, ā€œYour cat was sitting nearby and looking very proud.ā€

She smiled to herself and tried to visualise a proud cat. ā€œYouā€™ll have to come and clear this mess up,ā€ Mick demanded.

Andrea explained sheā€™d injured her ankle, so she couldnā€™t help. She felt quite sorry for Mick now, having to deal with the feathered casualty and knowing how much he hated cats. She felt sorrier for the pigeon, as she loved all wildlife. She apologised, still not convinced it was Lucyā€™s fault but wanting to keep the peace. Theyā€™d always been good neighbours up until now; it would be a shame to fall out over this one incident.

She offered Mick some plastic bags and old gardening gloves to clear up the dead body. Five minutes later, she could hear him cussing as he dealt with the corpse in his back garden. Andrea finished washing up, despite the water being only lukewarm now. She glanced up and was horrified to see Mick, having hopped quietly over the low fence, furtively creeping along the wall to her dustbin. He lifted the lid and unceremoniously plopped the dead bird in.

Now, he was the one who was smiling.