Not too long ago I received a letter from my old university back in Sweden. Needless to say I started to feel a bit nauseous, my heart started to beat at about 200 bpm and I got a little bit faint.
So I let the letter "stew" a bit while I paced around clutching my hands as if in prayer but before I let myself freak out totally I decided to take the bull by its horns and deal with it sooner rather than later. It wasn't anything bad - I'd been invited to do a masters in RE, my second and also my favourite subject.
The schedule was seductive with all religions included and opportunity to choose exactly what I'd like to write about.... I actually felt strangely drawn to going back and study but then I realised that it's not just about what I study but in this/my case where you study and I'm sorry to say it but going back to that town would kill me and that's a certainty.
I don't know why that place makes me feel like that but by God - all I wanted to do was to poke my own eyes out. I managed 4,5 years - barely and I vowed never to go back. And I won't. I'm sure Sheffield has some good courses...
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