I just fell asleep on the sofa while idly browsing through a dry and uninspiring critical feminist re-reading of Robert Browning’s character, Pompilia. While napping, I had a dream about my uncle. He was looking at me and shaking his head, with his big, mischievous snaggle-toothed grin and holding out a large rum and coke […]

Well, that’s the Waugh done. Tomorrow we begin the siege of the Kelly library, in preparation for the marathon writing of the Victorian poetry paper. Why don’t I feel more rejoicy? Maybe it’s because it’s late, I’ve eaten badly, and I smell funny. Time to go shower, then to bed. Mum is going to seem […]