Master of Aghast

I find myself aghast and agog at a lot of things these days. Not least, my flabber was thoroughly gasted by being offered a place on the course I’ve been wanting to do for three years. I received confirmation by email last night and very patiently (I think you can assume ‘patiently’ is a relative term) waited until this morning to tell my boss I was leaving in six weeks. She was, of course, thoroughly distraught and managed to restrain herself from sobbing uncontrollably only by immediately escaping the room. I heard her sobs (which sounded remarkably like giggles) through the door and my ego was suitably massaged (although I think the masseuse missed a bit round my id).

So I have six weeks of winding down before I commence coiling my brain into new and interesting configurations which it has heretofore been unable to accomplish. (I just wanted to use heretofore in a sentence). An MSc? Master?? Of Science??? Is that even possible for a badger? Perhaps the fact that it’s a Welsh MSc will make it less impossible? I can only hope. And work my paws off, of course. An unlikely combination for a work-shy pessimist. Will wonders never begin?