The library was quiet. The soft sunlight peeked through the curtains, and tempted me with stories that were taking place outside of the study building. I stared at my laptop; Spinoza’s philosophical musings blurred together on my screen – until my brain ran off with them.

I imagined how I packed up my laptop, and, clutching my precious possession under my arm, walked out of the room. For some inexplicable reason, I suddenly lost my grip on my favourite, most-hated possession. In my vision, I tried to catch my laptop with my feet, which of course had its consequences. I felt myself float, followed by a loud crash on the university’s concrete floor. That’s when my imagination really ran away with me – I imagined a huge fuss, throughout the entire country. The news that a student had fallen down so hard, trying to save her laptop, was meant to be published on the front pages. She’d even lost her sight as a result of the fall. Experts threw themselves into the incident that had gotten out of hand; had it perhaps been the pressure to perform? Would they be able to prevent situations like these by reinstating study financing for those hard-working students?

After these unfathomable thoughts had worked their way through my grey matter, I looked at myself in the now-black laptop screen. I nodded. Healthy self-reflection. Francis, your week is done. Stroll towards your weekend.