I am probably cut out to be some kind of LIFE COACH because I have come up with a method of not panicking about everything in my life. Before, people kept telling me not to worry all the time, which I reacted to with hostility, because I am secretly still a teenager. It’s one of those things that’s much easier said than done, and besides, if I don’t spend time worrying about things, ALL THE BAD THINGS WILL HAPPEN. Clearly. So what I’ve started to do, if I’ve got something terrifying looming over me like a presentation or enforced social interaction with people I don’t like, is put off worrying about it until a certain date, usually a couple of days before the event. So the thought process is ‘Yes, that’s quite scary and you will be worried. But there’s no point in worrying about it right now. You have permission to worry later’. I used to think that this method would build up a backlog of anxiety, but it hasn’t. I should write self-help books.
Not really. I have thought of another career that I’m developing a slight interest in, namely forensic dialectology. I hadn’t heard of it till I googled ‘jobs in dialectology’. There’s a course in it near where I live in the West Midlands and it looks pretty interesting. Only thing is, I haven’t really studied English linguistics at all, only crazy foreign languages. It’s an idea, anyway. It’s still the dream to keep on studying dialects FOREVER.
Tomorrow I am going to Ormskirk to visit 18 or so close relatives. I shall be wearing this dress

My mum kindly got it for me as an ‘I’m glad you’re back from Germany and don’t seem visibly insane’ present. It is probably the best dress ever. I shall rock Ormskirk.
I’ve got a job interview (or informal chat) next Wednesday for a summer job. It’s a cleaning job, but it’s local and full-time, which should help the ‘I have spent literally all my savings, and not even on anything exciting like alcohol or cake’ situation. So fingers crossed it’ll go well. I heard back about that job in Oldenburg and the good news is that I’ve been approved as a teacher. The bad news is that I’m not there anymore, but it should be something for next semester. And FINALLY, I’ve sent an email to the head of dept. at Sheffield. Who is on holiday for another 3 weeks, but Crazy Plan II isn’t mega-urgent at the moment, since it won’t come into force till March next year. The more I think about moving back to Sheffield, the happier I get. I was really happy in my final year there and I’d quite like to have that again, after the aimless wandering around that seems to have happened after graduation. I hope it’s doable.