Without the glamour.

Sitting at a desk, hunched over and squinting at the enigmatic words in front of me on the computer screen. Freud, Lacan, Saussure. An extra-large cup of mud-thick lukewarm coffee in a mug that reads “princess”. Smeared make-up, residue of the day past. Highlighters as far as the eye can see, and surrounded in stacks of papers and textbooks the size of your average telephone book. Scrub-styled pants and a generic tank top, with U of A hoodie unzipped, pushed up around the elbows. Midnight seems so early, target “finish” time is approx 4am. The continual stress and constant position cause muscles to spasm in the back and neck, as music wafts across the apartment from my roommates room. Identical to the perception of university life back in high school, but without the glamour.

Thank God for spellcheck.