An ending
The marks and feedback for the Thackeray essay arrived today. 67, which is a good Merit, but lower than the other essays except for the catastrophic theory essay. The fact that the tutor of the course was second marker for this probably didn't help, but the feedback pointed out genuine issues and I'm not going all sour grapes. Really.
So, that's the MA finished. A comfortable average in the high 60s, so they would have to be spectacularly mean not to award me the degree; I'll hear officially in about a month and graduation, if I go, is in January, the week after F's wedding.
The bad news is that apparently there's a rule that says you can't do the same qualification twice, so it looks as if I won't be doing any studying this year apart from signing up for Italian again. This saddens me. I may try applying for an MFA for next year, but I have to come up with a project for that. Possibly finishing my YA novel.
In other news, Dave is now painting the downstairs loo and the fitter has finished most of the tiling in the bathroom, which is looking good. He should be finished in a couple of days, he says - there will be photos. It's so wonderfully not-green, so I love it already.
Feeling very flat this evening, as if I've failed, which I know is very silly and I'll get over it. I feel, once again, second-rate. Better than third-rate or fourth-rate, but still. It's my default brood and I need to snap out of it. I have (pending) an MA from a prestigious university. Durham still means a lot more, though. I think I need to write fic to pull my head out of the mess.
So, that's the MA finished. A comfortable average in the high 60s, so they would have to be spectacularly mean not to award me the degree; I'll hear officially in about a month and graduation, if I go, is in January, the week after F's wedding.
The bad news is that apparently there's a rule that says you can't do the same qualification twice, so it looks as if I won't be doing any studying this year apart from signing up for Italian again. This saddens me. I may try applying for an MFA for next year, but I have to come up with a project for that. Possibly finishing my YA novel.
In other news, Dave is now painting the downstairs loo and the fitter has finished most of the tiling in the bathroom, which is looking good. He should be finished in a couple of days, he says - there will be photos. It's so wonderfully not-green, so I love it already.
Feeling very flat this evening, as if I've failed, which I know is very silly and I'll get over it. I feel, once again, second-rate. Better than third-rate or fourth-rate, but still. It's my default brood and I need to snap out of it. I have (pending) an MA from a prestigious university. Durham still means a lot more, though. I think I need to write fic to pull my head out of the mess.
