the VW bug
Having devoured the letters of Vita Sackville-West to Virginia Woolf, I have now moved on to reading/inhaling Hermione Lee's biography of Woolf. As I was leaving for the office this morning TA and I were at the door talking.
TA: You look like you're about to go to school.
Me: It's the rucksack.
TA: Hmm, maybe.
Me: I miss school. I rather wish I was going to school.
TA: Yes, but that's because you've forgotton how scummy it was. I bet when you went to school you looked forward to having a job.
Me: No. When I was at school I looked forward to being a lady of independent means. I still look forward to being a lady of independent means, but I am feeling wistful about school. I'd like to get back to studying.
TA: That's not what you said when you were finishing your MA.
Me: Hmmm, I know.
As I walked in this morning I contemplated the love that dare not speak it's name: I'm beginning to perhaps consider, not for the first time, a PhD. I'm beginning to think that perhaps there's a thesis on the VWs in me. I think I may have caught the VW bug. I'm beginning to wonder if I can work on it by myself without resorting to university entrance and fees - at least to begin with. I think I want to dig out my MA essay on Mrs Dalloway and have a definite think about academia. Oh dear.