Hmm…I appear to be in a bit of a quandary. A pickle you might even say. Do I go home for my reading week tomorrow, or do stay for a few days and put some effort into actually doing some work?

While it would be more than great to get home and see my Mister as soon as possible, I need to make sure I do not waste the week off and get some words typed in an essay-like fashion. I have a big deadline in a month’s time and I shouldn’t really be leaving this one to the last minute like I normally do. This One Counts. Lots. And I have no idea what I have to write about.

On the other hand, I always submit my work on time even if it means toiling over it up until three hours before the deadline and looking like something dug up from the cemetary when I hand it in. But I really shouldn’t be doing that anymore. It does not do me any good at all. Extra stress? No, thank you very much. So I should stay at least until Wednesday being all work and no play Pandorah. 

And be made a very dull girl. Because I do *Really* *Need* to see Mister. I have my revenge plan to put into action, left over from last weekend which I still feel annoyed about aborting due to ‘incapacitating circumstances’. Quite right. Perhaps if I got that out of my system early on in the week, I may be more geared up to working later on without that preying on my mind…

Oh, lust and desire make a slave of me. I will go home this weekend. How could I resist? But I will make a mini-compromise. I’ll do my bits and pieces and preparation on Saturday for the dreaded ‘V-Day’ pandemonium that takes place on Thursday and go home afterward on the wonderful public service system that is the bus.

There never really was a decision to make, was there? I’m not ruled by my head in matters such as these but by my heart and that little place further south. My head’s such a pushover in these topics. It’s funny how I make spur of the moment choices when my man is involved in the dilemma.