I spend half of my life wishing that days were longer. I always seem to end up in the house after midnight, and never get done what I wish I could get done. But today, sitting in the Uni commonroom from 5am, this day has been longer than any day I ever wished for. It's probably mainly because time stands still when you hit the wall. That painful period from 8am-12pm lasted a full day on its own.
I worry that me and Andy's constant blogging makes a hyperbole out of this little 3-day shenanigan. I promise we aren't trying to build this up as some crazy unheard-of expedition into the unknown - I think you know that it certainly isn't that incredible of a feat. But there's undoubtedly a loss of rationale when in this current state I find myself in, and without rationale, thoughts can cause panic unbelievably easily. I think about how sometimes at my weekend job a 4-hour shift feels like a full day shift, and then comparing that to my current situation, I die a little inside at the thought at 3 straight days in the same place without rest.
I'll stop moaning now. I feel pretty good; it's more the lingering realisation of just how long is left that's harming me psychologically. Let's see if I can still battle off the next 'wall' for a little while. They are really the only thing that will be our downfall.
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