I suspect that this has been one of those weeks where I'll look back and think: "Yep, that was a decider."
It has been a tough week. Most nights I've been too exhausted to cry myself to sleep, even though that's what I've wanted too do.
School is hard. And I was really, really considering quitting and going for this job at my Dad's old company. £13,000 a year and my Mum said she'd get me a flat if I took it. Tempting. Horribly, horribly, tempting...
So yesterday I had totally hit this brick wall, and I just thought: "I cannot do this for two years." this being homework, being living for the weekends and merely suviving Monday thru Thursday, being tired all the time. Then, I reconsidered.
I am not a quitter. I really am not. I don't have a history of giving things up because they're too hard. It's not how I was raised. It doesn't conform with my "What Would [insert current faevourite book character here] Do?" way of thinking.
So I'm not gonna quit because I have a bit too much work.
Then, I had bad news about a family member. That knocked me for six, and I'm not hugely ready to deal with it all yet.
But, on the upside, I'm going to Russia. Real Russia. The Russia of my imaginings. The Russia of my childhood dreams. In March, with my school.
Stress, sadness and joy. It has been a tiring week.