Life Of An Architecture Student

With a heavy heart, I come back to home after a long one and a half hour bus journey from college, situated about 27 kilometres from my home. I curse a lot, for not having scored so well to land me up into the nearby college at Dwarka, but then thank God- It's a new college and hasn't seen pass-outs yet.
My shoulders pain because of the heavy purse, filled with books, and tiffin box and water bottle, and it becomes a mess as I keep on checking it every minute or so to make sure I have got my money bag, charger, earphones, pencils, keys- all perfectly safe in it; my right hand occupied with the chart holder filled with charts, and a big polythene with a fat A3 sized sketchbook and big set squares, and few thermocol models they ask us to make.
I curse myself for being an architecture student, hardworking for the entire day, as they ask us to submit two-three sheets each day within one hour leaving us no time to even have our lunch. From seven in the morning to seven at evening, all I do is run.
As soon as I come in and feel I need sleep, I stare at the computer screen which shouts, "You havn't opened Writerbabu!"
I bath, I get fresh, take my lunch, as I sit in front of the desktop to surf- staring emptily at the time table hanging over the wall above the screen- lazily telling me, "No girl, you again don't have the time to get creative and write... you have three more submissions tomorrow...!"
And with a heavy heart, I log out to work, once again, as usual yet not used to it...